Daily Challenge Anthology
by LycoRogue
Summary: July 2012 Daily Writing Challenge, presented by Darkangel1326. Each chapter is a one-shot based on the 24-hr daily prompts given out throughout July. Rating may change depending on where the prompt goes. Please watch for it.
1. Ripped Apart

****A/N: Alright, so I've been battling with Writer's Block lately, so I'm only about 1/2 way through my latest chapter of What Is Truly Meant To Be: A Hey Arnold Musical. But then I saw that the Hey Arnold Creative group on facebook is doing a daily writing challenge. I missed last month's drawing challenge - because I can't draw stick figures - so I decided to give the writing challenge a go. A) I'm a writer (doi) and B) hopefully, forcing myself to do daily prompts will break through the Writer's Block. We'll see how it goes. **

**_THIS WILL SIMPLY BE AN ANTHOLOGY OF THE DAILY PROMPTS AND BY NO MEANS DO THE CHAPTERS NECESSARILY RELATE TO EACH OTHER UNLESS OTHERWISE SPECIFIED IN THE AUTHOR'S NOTES._**

**Each new chapter will be its own One Shot Story based on that day's prompt. The prompt will be that chapter's title. Since I don't know the prompts I don't know where my writing will lead so please be careful to check daily to see if I had to upgrade the rating.**

**If you want to join in on the challenge, go to:**

**pinklotus27. deviantart journal/ 30-DAYS-WRITING-CHALLENGE-311869246  
OR  
www. facebook groups/ HeyArnoldCreativeIdeas/  
**

**And now the glorious disclaimer for this anthology: Hey Arnold is the intellectual property of Craig Bartlett and is owned by Nickelodeon.**

**Without further ado, my entry for Day One of the challenge.****

**Ripped Apart  
ONE SHOT STORY**

A half-forgotten comic book sat in the back of the closet. It was ratty, well read, the page edges were bent and wrinkled, and the whole thing was tucked safely inside a collector's sealed bag.

"Gerald?" A soft voice called out for the twenty-four-year-old. As he entered the bedroom he looked at his gorgeous fiancée kneeling in front of the closet.

Phoebe had luggage laid out across the floor and clothing in piles around her, she was in the middle of packing for their upcoming cruise when she found the lonely comic book.

She pulled it out of its hiding spot and passed it over to Gerald. "Why on earth do you have such a destroyed comic book tucked in the closet?"

Gerald's heart sank and his breath left him. He took the comic from Phoebe's hand and lowered himself on to their bed, his eyes never once leaving the precious memento.

With the tenderness of a father holding his newborn, Gerald removed the artwork from its packaging and gingerly flipped through the tattered pages. His vision became blurred with tears.

"I almost forgot about this. It's my favorite comic; the last one Arnold and I bought."

Phoebe sat next to him on the bed and gave him a confused look. "The front cover is missing, what happened?"

"It's more than the front cover; it's the entire first half of the book."

Phoebe took a closer look at the comic. The first panel had what appeared to be the middle of a fight. Both characters were already pretty beaten up, another was knocked out, and a girl was screaming for them all to stop.

Phoebe scanned the whole page, but nothing made sense to her coming in half-way like that. Gerald tried to explain the characters to her, but it only made things worse because apparently the two characters getting ready to kill each other were best friends throughout the rest of the series, and the woman yelling for them all to stop had died in the previous issue.

"I'm very confused," she admitted, "What on earth happened to make this fight break out among what are supposed to be friends? And how is the woman there if she's dead?"

"I don't know," Gerald admitted, "I never read the first half of the comic. I have no clue how Janice dying and Marc and Nathan swearing to avenge her last issue lead to them trying to kill each other here."

"Well, what happened to the first half of the comic? Also, why keep it around instead of buying a whole one?"

"Arnold. For both answers." A sad smile crept across Gerald's mouth. "We had just learned that his parents were moving back down to San Lorenzo, and he was going with. We had no clue when we'd see each other again. We decided to spend our last day together doing some of our favorite things, including buying the latest issue of 'DeathLake'. However, as is always the case, our day didn't go exactly as planned, we got to the store pretty late, and there was only one left by the time we made it to the store that day. Arnold suggested that we pool our money to buy it together."

Gerald rubbed his hand across the well-loved comic and fondly recalled his best friend. "But before we got around to reading it, his parents came to pick him up. I offered for him to just take the comic and that I'd buy another one when the store got more. Instead, Arnold swore he wouldn't read it without me, and ripped the book in half."

Phoebe rested a hand on Gerald's knee, and gave a gentle squeeze. She sat silently and listened intently as her fiancé finished his story.

"He told me that this way he'll never know the ending of the story without me. That without hanging out with me again the story will never be complete. He promised that one day we'd meet up again and we could finally read the comic together, like we intended to do that day."

Gerald put the comic book back in to the bag and sealed it. "I may have caved in and read how the story ended, but I never went back to look for another copy so I knew how it began. I'm completely lost without Arnold."

He gave a sad chuckle, "Nice little metaphor, huh?"

Phoebe kissed Gerald on the forehead, "It is indeed a beautiful metaphor. I'm also sure that you will read the whole comic someday."

She gave him a soft, soothing smile and he held her tight. Yes, perhaps he will read the full comic with Arnold someday. Just like they promised each other all those years ago.

****A/N: Yeah, I have no clue where Arnold is or why he and Gerald haven't met up in like a decade, I just ran with it...**

**I only spent like 30minutes on this - all I could afford - and I was passing out while doing so. Maybe that's the trick, nearly pass out and don't proofread. :P**

**Anyway, I just REALLY wanted to avoid using Helga and Arnold for this angst-ridden prompt. I knew that nearly everyone would go there. I was going to do another couple, but nothing seemed to work. I then switched gears. Barely anyone does stories about how Arnold's leaving Hillwood (if you go by The Patakis cannon) would affect anyone other than Helga, so I ran with it.**

**I instantly knew that I wanted "Ripped Apart" to reference both Arnold being ripped away from Gerald as well as a physical item ripped. I just couldn't decide on what to use. I went through baseball card, photo, autographed picture, movie stub, etc. When I finally landed on comic book everything just sort of clicked.**

**I also was originally going with Gerald and Arnold meeting up after years apart and surprising each other with the second half of the ripped object, but the story ended up not going in that direction. Silly stories writing yourselves...**

**Well, off to Day Two of the challenge.****


	2. Over The Rainbow

****A/N: Day two for the July Daily Writing Challenge. It kept a little bit to figure out what to do with this to make sure I didn't go with my gut feeling of "awww, this is a mushy fluff-filled romance prompt".**

**After avoiding the "this is about characters hooking up" idea this one was the next to pop in my head. However, I wasn't sure if I had the true meaning of "Over The Rainbow" - in my head it's elation. So I looked it up on Urban Dictionary, to find out that "Over The Rainbow" could also mean "Off Their Rocker" or just simply "crazy" and so I thought about writing about Arnold's Grandma... and then I came back to here.**

**I'm not sure if I like it as much as my sleep-induced story yesterday...****

**Over The Rainbow  
ONE SHOT**

The applause and clinking of glass died down as he stood up. With a soft smile, he straightened his tie, grabbed his notecards, and walked over to the sweetheart table. He took the microphone with the confidence for which he was most well-known.

As the room calmed he took a step forward and cleared his throat, "For those of you who don't know – which is silly, you all should – I'm Gerald's older brother Jamie O."

He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and they exchanged smiles, "When I was trying to figure out the best length for a Best Man's speech I was informed that I should 'make sure it doesn't last longer than the groom will that evening.' So, well-"

Some of the room started chuckling at the description of time, but the whole room burst in to laughter when Jamie O. shrugged, put the microphone down next to Gerald, and started to walk away.

After taking about four paces, Jamie O. turned back around and again picked up the microphone in order to continue his speech, waving for the wedding guests to calm down.

"Alright, alright, I'm just messing with ya, Little Brother," Jamie O. patted Gerald on the shoulder and gave his new sister-in-law a wink. "In all seriousness, I do have to say that it is a wonderful but rare opportunity when people can speak of a man who is amazingly witty, charming, and magnificently good looking. However, I really shouldn't be talking about myself on my brother's special day."

He again paused as he waited for the laughter to ease up. Gerald looked at his older brother, and gave him a playful glare.

"I would like to take a moment to thank Gerald for asking me to be his best man alongside Arnold," Jamie O. continued in a softer, more serious tone. The love for his kid brother hung on his voice, "The fact that he had me stand beside him right next to his best friend for twenty-odd years means so much to me. Even with all the teasing and bullying and picking on him that I used to do, we came together over the years and became great friends. But what I think means the most to me about being able to stand here and give this speech is that after all these years Gerald can finally admit that I really am the 'Best Man'."

Gerald was nearly bent over in laughter and he and Jamie O. exchanged punches to the arm. Jamie O. then pointed to his brother, winked, and continued on.

"I do have to admit that the road to becoming friends with my little brother was a bit of a rocky one, and I guess I'm still not one-hundred-percent trust-worthy in his eyes. He took me aside a few days ago, nervous about my speech, and expressed concern that I would tell embarrassing stories that might paint him poorly in front of his brand new in-laws. He even gave me a list of subjects he'd prefer I didn't mention."

Jamie O. then flipped through his notecards until he got to one a different color than the rest, with a very casual tone he commented, "I of course have the list right here."

After clearing his throat he read off a few of the notes in a very nonchalant manner, as if reading a grocery list: "Let's see, Connie and Maria, Chloe, Senior Skip day, his 21st birthday, Cheese Festival '03, Cheese Festival '04, Cheese Festival '05, Cheese Festival '06…"

Gerald was crying he was laughing so hard, but at the same time scanned the table his in-laws were sitting to make sure they were laughing as well.

"And this is just the short list," Jamie O. concluded as he looked up from the notecard. "Hold on, I have the whole list here somewhere." He reached in to his pocket and pulled out a tightly rolled ticker-tape-like paper. He held on to the top edge as if to read the list, letting the rest unravel. The full paper dropped down to his feet and draped across the floor. As the crowd's laughter calmed Jamie O. shrugged and dropped the paper, "Nevermind, you don't need to know about all that."

"What you do need to know about Gerald, is how much he loves his new blushing bride. There is rarely a day that passed that he didn't go on about her – it was actually kind of sickening really. Even with the constant influx of other girls, and other crushes; even when he would parade a new girl through Mom and Dad's nearly every day; even when we thought he'd be a bachelor forever-"

Gerald's eyes grew wide and he faked a smile, "Jamie Ooooooh. That's enough, man!"

The older brother chuckled and continued his thought, "Even with all those women in his life, his future bride was always there in the back of his mind. There was always that torch left burning for his beloved Phoebe Heyerdahl."

The room filled with "aww" and Gerald turned to his new wife. Phoebe blushed and smiled back at him, squeezing his hand.

"Phoebe is probably the best woman I could want for my brother," Jamie O. walked over to his new sister-in-law and placed a hand on her shoulder. "She's beautiful, intelligent, independent, funny, charming, a great friend, and the perfect proof that opposites attract."

Jamie O. turned serious and walked over to the table his parents and sister were sitting. Tucked among his family was a gorgeous woman in her thirties. A two-year-old that resembled Jamie O. sat on the woman's lap. Before finishing his speech, he took the woman's hand and turned towards the newlyweds.

"In all honesty, though, I have to say that if Phoebe can make my little brother a third as happy as Tiffany here makes me, and if Gerald can return the favor to his darling wife, well then you guys will have a long and happy marriage filled with love. So I wish to raise my glass for my brother and my new sister."

Jamie O. accepted the glass of champagne Tiffany handed to him. As he raised his glass high the rest of the room followed suit. With a soft, loving voice and a gentle smile down at his wife and son, Jamie O. concluded his speech.

"I wish the newlyweds the greatest happiness and life filled with wedded bliss. Welcome, Little Brother, to the great life over the rainbow."

****I am in a GeraldxPhoebe kick lately apparently. I tried to come up with something that I suspected no one else would think of. That's my real challenge during this month - to think outside the box and come up with something most others probably won't. We'll see how successful I am.**

**Again, I'm not the biggest fan of this story, but I wanted a touching Brotherly Love kind of tale. To do so I spliced together the best parts of all the best man speeches I've heard over the years. I think, considering I had all day to write, that this is super short... but I don't write Best Man speeches for a reason (well... aside from the fact that I'm a girl...)**

***shrug* Maybe tomorrow's prompt will be better...****


	3. Fiery Eyes, Fragile Heart

****A/N: Day three for the July Daily Writing Challenge. **

**Finally got off the Johanson kick I've been in the past two days. "Fiery eyes, fragile heart" just doesn't seem to describe anyone in that clan...**

**My issue this time was that this prompt just SCREAMS Helga... and yet I had suspicions that the majority of the stories that cropped up would center around her, and I'm trying to push myself out of the box. Therefore I wrote for someone I haven't done yet: Curly!**

**And yes, Curly DOES refer to himself in third person a lot so those are NOT mistakes... ****

**Fiery Eyes, Fragile Heart  
ONE SHOT**

I thought I finally found it. A way to finally win my love. Sure, it would take some getting used to, and the plan wasn't perfect, but it was something.

My devious inspiration hit the moment I saw her at the water fountain with her mother's new fur coat. I had to admit that the dame looked amazing, but was none too bright. Her vanity was her undoing and my golden opportunity.

The wheels in my admittingly twisted little head quickly kicked in to overdrive. My foot was finally in the door, as long as I could convince my vixen to play along.

See, not only have I been going to my parents' dry cleaners every day after school my whole life, but for some extra moolah I started learning the family business. I knew how to take care of that stain on that pretty white minx. Oh yes. And I could most certainly help my precious out by removing that stain for her – for a price.

My princess, she's been raised real well. She's been taught the value of a dollar – as in, the more dollars something is the more value it has. So I can't be giving nothing free away, not for her, no sir. How can I get her to see my value if she doesn't see how much I cost?

This week's asking price? Five full school days worth of her hanging on both my arm and my every word. She'll get used to the idea. She'll play her part so well she'll even fool herself. And that's when I'll snag her. That's when she'll finally see how great of a boyfriend I can be and she'll fall for me then. Oh yes, she'll get one taste and never want to give up her Curly-Loving.

I even made sure to cover all my bases. Step one: convince her that her only choices were me or getting in trouble with her parents. Step two: make sure my clever girl didn't weasel her way out of our deal – a few quick blackmail pictures took care of that. Bonus: now I have pictures of my gorgeous love and I have an excuse to keep them with me at all times. Step three: prove I'm worth every penny by having her come with me to the cleaners. Oh, she saw my masterful work. There was no denying that I was her savior, that my skill alone kept the secret of her thievery. Without me, she'd be lost. My worth was fully displayed and now she'll be more than willing to pay my fee.

She still fought the idea of dating me – even if it were pretend – but now that I had all the cards she couldn't resist me any longer. Sure, she groaned and made it seem like the world was gonna end, but that's 'cuz she didn't realize how good she'd have it with me. She didn't know how charming of a man I am. I knew she'd change her tune by the end of the week.

The next day on the bus went swimmingly. She said all her lines, she played her part well, and she had everyone believe that she was really with me. I totally get why she was originally picked to play Juliet. Shame that she dropped out like that, she would have been amazing. I totally would have jumped at the chance to be Romeo if she had kept the lead. Oh well, C'est la vie.

Ah, to hear those sweet words leave her lips, "I'm your girlfriend". To feel the warmth of her body nestled in the crook of my arm. To feel her soft shirt against my cheek as I rest my head on her. These are the building blocks for heaven!

I could rest my hand on her small waist all day long. And I could swear she was trying to pull down my shorts a little when I put her hand in my pocket. My sultry tease! Playing hard-to-get all these years, I'm sure. Well, Curly's got you now, Babe, and he ain't letting go!

I stayed up all night making a few gifts for my darling; partially to really stick it to her for being so mean to me all these years, partially to strengthen the rouse that we were actually in love, and partially to boost my own popularity by being Rhonda's boyfriend. Mostly though, I stayed up all night playing Arts and Crafts so I could show her what dating Curly is really like; that even I could spoiler her like she's used to; that no man could be as devoted as I am.

She again resisted when I handed her my first gift, but with a quick flash of my blackmail polaroids she quickly agreed to wear the shirt. God, she looks fine walking around with my name on her chest! "Curly's Girl" inside that heart I took painstaking care to make sure was perfect for my queen. I knew she had her reputation, I knew she had style and class. I made sure to make the most styling t-shirt so she would be proud to wear it.

I was on Cloud Nine and I knew Rhonda dear would be there soon! She had to be on like Cloud Five or something by now!

Just to make sure she was getting a nice little push towards heaven, I gave her my second gift.

"Look, Dear," I proudly proclaimed in front of the whole class, "another present from me. Your boyfriend." I placed the picture of me on her desk. A master plan if I do say so myself.

Just like the shirt, I knew my girl needed to be surrounded by nice things, so I spent all night going from store to store in search for the perfect frame. The beautiful heart shape with the flattened edge to help it stand, the purplish-pink color, the way it fit nicely in the palm of my hand, it all screamed out my lovely Rhonda's name! A few more hours were spent finding the perfect picture of me to best display my manly charms, and a slow process to make sure I cut the picture to fit perfectly in to the frame. The whole thing was a masterpiece! A masterpiece I tell ya!

"It's worth a thousand 'I love you's, don't ya think?" Am I wordsmith or what? How can any chick resist such swagger? How can she not melt at my sweetness?

Best yet was that now Rhonda would be looking at my handsome mug all day. There's no way to ignore the Curly Allure when you're staring at it all the time. Yes, Sir! She would never break it off on Friday! The trap was laid and soon I'd have my prize. I would get my minx thanks to a spot on her mother's.

In fact, I didn't even notice the time during lunch that fateful Friday. She breezed in to the cafeteria like a graceful angel, smiling as she glided over to me. The adorable look on her face as she smiled and waved by wiggling her fingers. So dainty, so adorable! Ah, and the way she softly called me "Lover Boy" as she hooked her arm through mine. No longer were the words slightly strained like they were when she first put on the act. No, no, this time she wasn't resisting the inevitable. This time she wasn't pretending. Ah, my sweet angel was clearly speaking from the heart.

She again denied me as she claimed her glee was from the fact that our deal was over and she could dump me in thirty seconds, but how could that be true! I even pointed out that it was obvious that she had grown to adore me! I could still hear the sweetness in her tone when she called me "Lover Boy" not ten seconds prior. How could it all have been an act? She was back to playing hard-to-get, but there was no way she would actually let lose this magnificent stallion!

"Curly?" She gave the most evil grin I had ever seen in my life! It was dripping with cruelty in a way I had never seen on my beloved. "You are a low-down, despicable creep! It's over between us. I never want to speak to you again. Now crawl back under the rock you came out of, you slug."

H-how? How could she be so cruel? My shirt? My photo? Both were back in my hands. She didn't want my gifts. She didn't want to date me. She didn't want anything to do with me. But, how? What did I do that was so horrendous that she'd treat me like that?

I know Arnold put his hand on my shoulder and asked me if I was alright, but I couldn't think of anything other than my darling Rhonda rejecting me like that. As much as I tried, I couldn't stop the tears.

The rest of the day crawled along in agony. She was right there, and so out of reach. I didn't hear a single thing Mr. Simmons said the rest of the day as I nestled my head in the shirt I made for my beauty.

I could still smell her on the shirt and it was both comforting and painful. It was like she was still there, and yet I couldn't feel her warmth or hear her remarkable voice. I was again aware of people talking about me, but I'm so used to it I didn't care. I only cared that my precious darling no longer holding my hand.

The bittersweet taste clung to my mouth as I heard my lovely's voice complaining about everyone feeling sorry for me. That's right, doll, you ripped my heart out and now you're getting snubbed. Them's the breaks, sweetie. Yet, at the same time I felt even worse that she was treated rudely.

The next week of school was painful as I kept thinking about how much my baby was repulsed by me. I was still dumbfounded that my genius plan not only failed, but seemingly backfired. Why couldn't any of my plans work! First the dodgeball fiasco, then framing Eugene for the fire alarm, and now this! The only plan I got to work was freeing all the animals from the zoo (that was fun, I have to try that again sometime).

Anyway, I was amazed that even Helga defended my heartbreak, but then again she did always look for an excuse to pick on my princess. But the most mindboggling was when – of all people – Nadine forsake her best friend in order to stand by my side. Seems darling Rhonda's plan backfired just as much as mine. Sure, she was free of me, but she was also the social pariah.

Which, oddly enough, was my second chance to creep my way into her heart.

There I was, a heartbroken shell of a man, walking somberly home from school when I heard the sweet music of her voice, "Alright, Sulky. I want you to listen up, cuz I'm only gonna say this once. Ever since our imaginary relationship and pretend break-up it seems that everyone has – for whatever insane reason – decided to feel sorry for you and shun me…. And so, starting tomorrow, you're gonna stop your pathetic moping and help me win back some sympathy."

When I expressed confusion on her last statement she muttered the most beautiful phrase I've ever heard: "Yes, by pretending to be my boyfriend again."

Elation hit instantly. I KNEW my plan had to have worked! I knew there was no way she could resist a stud like Curly! My baby wanted me back. She claimed it was simply to win back the hearts of our classmates, but I knew better. I was wearing my baby's resistance down! She wouldn't be able to fight the temptation to get a taste of Sweet Curly for much longer. The game was back on and I was willing to take up the chase once again.

We wowed the crowd the next day. My babydoll cooed to her audience about how much she loved being my girlfriend again, and I could hear it in her voice – it wasn't entirely an act. I just knew she was coming around to old Curlytown.

Proof was in the puddin', my friends. Why, that very same day she returned my picture frame gesture with one of her own. Right there, in the middle of class, she gets up, struts over to my desk, and places a golden frame on my desk, complete with the most gorgeous picture of my girl I've ever seen: a sultry "over the shoulder" pout in that marvelous red dress she wore the night of the Minx Incident. And right there, written in her own hand, "With Love, Rhonda".

Oh, yeah! "With Love". That's right, kiddies, she wrote the "L-Word", right there for the world to see! She even gave me that "It's worth a thousand 'I love you's, don't you think?" line that I wove for her two weeks prior. But, I have to say the best part was that "love" written on her picture. I mean, even I didn't write "love" on my picture to my sweet angel, so it HAD to be her way of letting me know that this "pretend relationship" wasn't so fake after all. You can't pull a fast one on old Curly, see?

She even made me a fantastic shirt to wear with "Rhonda's Hunk" right across the chest. "Hunk", eh? Not "Rhonda's Man" or "Rhonda's boyfriend" it was specifically her "hunk". Does Curly have swag, or does Curly have swag?

Oh, and the way she called me her "little love bug" with that adorable babytalk tone in her voice! Yeah, Momma! There was no doubt that this "little love bug" bit her, and bit her hard. There was no way she was letting me go this time. I was finally in!

That's when I went for it, the grand culmination of our courtship, our wonderful, fantastic, fireworks-creating first kiss. I even made sure to include the movie-worthy dip as I gave my precious the smooch of her life.

And then she ran off to the bathroom.

I went to go see if my munchkin was feeling alright, and when I crept up on the bathroom I heard her yelling. I listened to make sure she wasn't in trouble, and then I truly realized what was going on.

"But then again, if I don't go through with this everyone will hate me because I broke the little freak's heart."

Her words stung as they pierced through my ears. She really didn't like me after all. It really was all just for show. How could I have miscalculated so poorly yet again? How could she have blinded me so entirely?

"Time to buck up, Rhonda. After all, aside from that one highly nauseating kiss, this really isn't going so badly."

Nauseating? The best moment of my short, little life was nauseating to Rhonda? I could have gone on for hours doing nothing more than press my lips against hers and she couldn't break free fast enough!

Then I heard the worst part of her discussion with herself, "All you gotta do is stick to the plan, then find a way to dump the little troll."

Troll. I was a troll in her eyes. No swag. No charm. Not a hunk. Not anything more than a troll, a thorn in her side. A roadblock to her popularity.

My heart sank at the thought of her being with me when the thought repulsed her. What on earth was a guy to do?

But I couldn't force her to stay with me if she wasn't happy. She didn't want me in the slightest. I had to respect that. I deserved more than someone who was forced to pretend to like me, and she deserved to be happy and free.

So I decided to do the most noble thing I could think of for my pet. A far, far better thing that I did, than I have ever done.

Lunch came around and I ignored her siren's greeting. I had to forget that she sweetly called me her "little buttercup" and pretend to not hear her sing-song voice as she offered me the seat she saved. I couldn't take any distractions until this was done and over with.

"Forget it, Babe," I started, "It's over." God, that was hard to say, but it had to be done. The shocked look on her face said it all, but I had to make this whole scene play out top notch. I deserved to be the lead in every play this town's got, and I aimed to prove it.

"I've been thinking, see? And it turns out you're a lousy girlfriend!" It was sad that it was both horribly false, and painfully true. The gifts meant nothing without the feeling behind it, but oh, if she had really cared for me it would have been the best week of my life. To know how it felt to have Rhonda Wellington Lloyd pine over me. Makes a guy sure feel wanted.

When Rhonda questioned my outcry I knew I had to make sure everyone in the cafeteria heard me. I had to make sure that she was back on top by the time I was through. Curly can handle being the bad guy, as long as my princess is back on her thrown when all is done.

With a deep breath I continued, "You heard me, Girlie! That's why I decided to dump you."

Oh yeah, that got everyone's attention, now to pull out all the punches, "That's right, Princess, Curly's giving you the old heave ho, the boot, the kick to the proverbial curb."

The audience grew, as not a single kid had their eyes off me. Rhonda wanted to be the center of attention again? Well, baby, she got it! Time for the big finish.

"From this moment on, you and me are history!" I stormed out of the cafeteria, peeling off my new shirt and tossing it over my shoulder. I could hear the whispers about me being cold and having a heart of stone. Whatever, Curly can take it. As long as people were feeling sorry for Rhonda, I'll survive being the new pariah.

The important thing was that Rhonda was now queen bee again. She was free of our deal and she didn't have to put up with a "troll freak" any longer.

So what if my chest burns with every breath? So what if my throat feels clogged every time I try to swallow? So what if my limbs feel numb? So what if I can't see because my eyes are gazed over with tears? So what if I'm a lot more fragile than people take me for?

Point is; Curly is also strong, virile, fiery, and capable of being the villain.

Anything for my dear, sweet, precious, angelic, beautiful Rhonda. (And I do still have that picture she gave me.)

****A/N: Okay, so originally I wasn't going to have that last sentence, but it's FRIGGEN CURLY! I just HAD to end on at least a psuedo-creepy line...**

**Anyway, I know that he's probably another cliched character to write for this prompt, but he's like the flipside of Helga; the creepy, male equivalent. So, if I couldn't write about Helga I just HAD to write about Curly.**

It was so much fun to get in to the mind of the "twisted little freak" that the story just sort of spilled out on to the paper as soon as I started - so I ran with it, cliche or not.

I knew I would be writing about Curly, and I knew it would be something to do with his rocky relationship with Rhonda, but I didn't know that I was gonna write a companion story to the episode "Curly's Girl" until I started actually writing - made life interesting.

**Well, off to work on today's prompt of "Miracle"... wish me luck.****


	4. Miracle

****A/N: Day Four of the Daily Challenge. HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY, AMERICANS!**

**I again feel like this story sucks because I didn't have much time to work on it - first work at 6am, and then the festivities of the Fourth of July. So... sorry about this crap... :P**

**Guess what? I'm back to writing a story about the Johansons! Surprise, surprise! :P**

**This challenge was actually pretty hard. "Ripped Apart" would most likely be an angsty story, "Over The Rainbow" would probably be about someone being happy, and "Fiery Eyes Fragile Heart" only described about 4 characters in the show. But, "Miracle" is so broad. It could talk about anyone and have any feel. Happy, hopeful, bittersweet, depressing, religious, etc.**

**It would have been too easy for me to write about the "miracle of life" or "it will take a miracle for…" So right away I nixed those kinds of stories. I also did a "stalker tried to have a relationship" story yesterday, so stories of Arnold and Helga, Curly and Rhonda, Eugene and Sheena, Gerald and Phoebe, etc were all out – although I DID keep coming back to Brainy and Helga since it might help with my current story.**

**After writing down about 15 things that came to mind when thinking "miracle" I stumbled upon the idea of Martin Johanson running in to Private Miller at the Vietnam memorial.**

**I had a few other tight competitors - such as Stoop Kid leaving his stoop or Mr. Hyunh's reaction to being reunited with his daughter Mai - but I wanted something faintly patriotic for Independence Day, so I went with a companion story for Veteran's Day.**

**Miracle  
****ONE SHOT**

I don't know what the problem could possibly be. I never had this issue. I respected my father and looked up to him. Always.

I know I might seem harsh to a nine-year-old. I know I'm not "hip" or "cool" or "down with what's hot" or whatever it is the kids say these days. I get that I can be a bit of a "buzz kill" when it comes to their playing around.

But a father is supposed to be your guardian and your role model, not your friend. Plus, it's hard to go through a long day at work, come home, be unappreciated, and worst yet – have all that hard-earned cash fly right out the window. So is it really wrong of me to try to create a little order and teach my children the value of the dollar?

Even so, I wasn't this disrespectful of my father. I didn't sigh and roll my eyes whenever he started speaking. I didn't groan whenever he wanted to spend time with me. I loved spending time with my father, and I loved hearing all of his stories.

Then again, look at who I'm competing with. Old coot and his "I beat up Hitler" tale. Even the part that he swears is true about poisoning the Nazis with bad cham – it has all the elements of a story that nine-year-old boys love. It has humor, suspense, some fighting, and outwitting the enemy in order to win a war. No wonder my story sounded like a "snoozefest" in comparison.

The thing is though, I wasn't trying to get glory back then, and I wasn't trying to get glory now when I retold my experience. All I wanted to do was impart some knowledge on my son. I wanted to teach him that wars aren't fun and not everyone involved is a fighter. I wanted to teach him that just because someone wasn't on the front line doesn't mean they served their country any less or that they shouldn't be as well respected as any other Vet. I wanted him to learn that, very simply, if your country asks you to do something you give it your all – regardless of whether or not it's glamorous.

I was proud of the job I did in Vietnam and I wanted him to be proud too, even if I was never in a battle. But compared to Phil's story, I could almost feel the boys' eyes glaze over.

Either way, I thought that perhaps my message got through. It wouldn't just be a great moral about war, but a great moral about how to attack every task he encounters throughout his life.

Instead, all I accomplished was to knock myself off the pedestal little boys put their fathers on. I wasn't a war hero in his eyes, and that was my last redemption. I was now back to the stuffy, stingy, fun-killing father.

My son's words shot through my chest like a bullet, "He was a file clerk! How did it even make a difference that he went to Vietnam?"

I had no ideas on what to do anymore. I already felt bad that my job kept me away from Gerald, but the last of our connection felt severed. I wasn't his hero anymore. I wasn't this fun-loving guy like Phil. We didn't have the same relationship Phil and Arnold have.

The last thing a father wants to hear is that his son finds him a loser. And that is exactly what I just witnessed.

File Clerk. He sounded so embarrassed to have me as a father. What I did had no validity. Was our whole trip for nothing? What would Gerald learn from this experience? Will he ever see me with respect and reverence?

I tried to make the most of the next day. Phil and I took the boys around the capital and showed them all the monuments. We told them the history of the wars. We watched all the celebration. Gerald seemed to be enjoying himself, but his words still nagged at me.

How could I redeem myself? How could I make my son proud again?

Phil suggested some alone time and took Arnold off to look for the statue they supposedly put up to honor his role in the Battle of the Bulge. I took Gerald with me to the various Vietnam monuments.

As we stared at the names etched in to the ebony wall, I knelt to look him in the eye and again stated that even though I wasn't the war hero he was expecting I still had done my best during my enlistment. Although he stated that he understood and told me that he was proud, I could hear the disappointment in his voice.

But then I heard my name.

It was a soft, yet masculine voice, and yet again I heard "Private Johanson?"

I first recognized the snake tattoo on his lower right arm. The face, though aged, was also familiar to me. It was Private Miller, the man I bandaged up in a Vietnamese rice paddy back in 1972.

He told the tale of how I found him wounded that day, how crazy-brave I seemed when I used my paperwork to bandage his leg, and how my doing so stopped him from bleeding to death.

"I've waited over twenty years to thank ya," he smiled at me and extended his hand. If I hadn't stopped; if I hadn't been creative enough to use my files as a first aid kit; if I had been any later than I was, he wouldn't have been standing there, shaking my hand.

He made sure to stress to Gerald that I was this man's savior. "Did you know your father's a real hero?" The look of admiration I got from my son warmed me all over. And then Miller introduced us to his lovely wife and two darling children. I even started to tear up when Miller's son gave me a real proper salute alongside telling me "it's an honor, sir."

Me? A hero? I never meant to be one. I just saw a man in trouble and did the best I could to help him out. Yet there he was, standing there and claiming it was all thanks to me.

Hearing how a person's life was saved due to my actions, hearing me be called a "war hero", and watching another boy his age salute me; well, I saw Gerald's face truly light up.

I knew then that he was again proud of his old man. There was a tale he would tell his friends and children. I was back on that pedestal reserved by every boy for his father.

As the Millers watched the fireworks with Gerald and me all I could think about was the miracle that was us finding each other that weekend.

What are the odds that he would take his family to D.C. the same time I finally decide to take Gerald? I never took him to the capital before. What were the odds again that we'd run in to each other while in Washington D.C.? The fact that we found each other and that Private Miller restored me in my son's eyes. That was the truest miracle I had ever witnessed.

And I'll be eternally grateful for it.

****A/N: I again feel like this story sucks because I didn't have much time to work on it - first work at 6am, and then the festivities of the Fourth of July. So... sorry about this crap... :P**

**Here's hoping what I have planned for "Spellbound" works out better… FINALLY getting to write about Helga and Arnold. :3 ****


	5. Spellbound

****A/N: Day four for the July Daily Writing Challenge**

**Okay, I couldn't resist a Helga/Arnold story any longer. Still, I don't think people will go in this direction. LOL!**

**I was originally going to do a teaser for the "A Midsummer Night's Dream" parody I've had bouncing around in my head for a while. Then, out of nowhere, I remembered the anime The Familiar of Zero - great show btw, I suggest it strongly!**

**It was then a question of "Do I have Rhonda be Louise and Curly be Saito?" It would have worked REALLY WELL for this, but if I ever wanted to do more with it Curly would NOT have worked as the "exotic, charming familiar most of the girls fall for"...**

**Anyway, I then just caved in and went with Helga and Arnold... and then this turned in to a teaser instead of a complete story. However, who knows how long the plot bunny is going to have to wait until I continue with it...****

**Spellbound  
A Familiar Of Zero Crossover Teaser**

Criminey! I can't believe my rotten luck! How in the world did I end up with such a pathetic, disrespectful, moron of a familiar? I am the second daughter of a proud line of mages and my sister is renowned for her great talent.

Granted, I too am greatly renowned. But as a Zero. Helga Geraldine Pataki; codename: Helga the Zero.

Sure, I might have a zero-percent magic casting success rate, but I still don't deserve this- This- This ridiculous excuse for a companion! I just don't understand what went wrong.

My second year at Tristain Academy of Magic started off as I'm now accustomed, with the students cowering in fear whenever I'm asked to perform a simple spell. They beg the teacher to pick anyone else in the class for the demonstration, and in my fury with them I lose concentration and cause a minor explosion. Still gives them no right to go around giving me the codename The Zero. I want something proper and fitting.

Thaddeus is The Brass because his magic is based in the ground element. Rhonda is The Fever; partially due to her magic being based in the element of fire, but I suspect it's mostly due to her highly seductive mannerisms around the guys in school. Stupid princess; walking around with her chest hanging out and her skirt barely covering her. Get some clothes that actually fit, will ya?

Anyway, I just had to prove to everyone that I am as good of a mage as anyone else here – especially Rhonda. So when she started laughing with her friends about how much I was going to screw up the Familiar Summoning Ritual I couldn't resist blurting out that my familiar would be the best one any noble had ever summoned. And then I get stuck with this horrid thing. Why did I open my mouth?

When the day of the ceremony finally arrived all of the second-year students gathered in the main courtyard of the castle that houses our academy. Mr. Simmons stood front and center to make sure he was well seen and heard by all.

"My dear Lords and Ladies, welcome to the Familiar Summoning Ritual. This will be your first – very special – exam of the new term, as well as the most important spell you will ever cast. That is because today is also the sacred first day that you will finally meet your specially picked familiars."

There was a soft murmur of excitement as my classmates all talked about their summoning spells and guessed which creatures they will receive as familiars.

Mr. Simmons raised his arms to focus everyone once more, "A mage's familiar is very important for it shall become your lifelong servant, friend and companion as you spend the rest of your days living as a nobleman. The familiar that comes to you is the one being that best suits you – as its summoner – in every way. Take great care, for your familiar is your eyes and ears among the world and the bond is a special and unbreakable one."

Then the crowd opened up to create a large gap in the grass where the summoning student can stand and be watched by all. Some of the creatures were simple and basic: cats, birds, frogs, mice, snakes, and the like. Some of the creatures were mythical and grand, such as a dragon and a flame-tailed salamander.

Hours passed and I was the only one to not attempt the summoning spell yet. I hid in the back of the crowd, nervous about whether or not I would actually be able to complete the ritual – or would I again create an explosion.

I couldn't take the mockery any longer.

I knew I couldn't go through life without a familiar, but at the same time I didn't wish to speak up and again be the center of attention. Perhaps I could just wait until everyone else left, and then I could do the ritual on my own.

Then that stupid Rhonda Wellington Lloyd had to remind everyone that I hadn't summoned anything yet.

I held my head high and proudly strutted to the center of the crowd. I paused a moment to gather my nerves before grandly sweeping my arms high above my head, simultaneously brushing my cloak off my arms, leaving them free and unburdened.

"My servant that exists somewhere in this vast universe," I loudly cried out.

My classmates stared in shock and laughed amongst themselves, "What kind of spell is that?"

Undeterred, I continued, "My divine, beautiful, wise, and powerful servant, heed my call! I wish to assert my will from the very bottom of my heart. Answer my guidance and appear!"

Of course, instead of a grand flickering of lights, a spiral of wind, a gentle movement of the ground, or a geyser eruption, my spell had to cause yet another explosion.

"Well what can you expect from Helga the Zero," they chuckle. That is, until the smoke cleared.

Their voices all simultaneously stopped, their jaws dropped and their eyes grew wide. Lying on the ground in the center of where the explosion occurred was a strange looking boy.

He had an oblong head that resembled the shape of an almond. He wore strange blue pants that appeared to be made out of a tough material. He looked sloppy with the sleeves of his red, plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the shirt itself untucked and unbuttoned so his green undershirt showed.

He slowly regained consciousness and started yelling in a language I never heard before.

"Did Helga summon a peasant boy for her familiar?" Thaddeus called out in disbelief.

Rhonda started laughing and gasped out, "What a perfect companion for The Zero!"

I turned and glared at them all before whipping back around to Mr. Simmons.

"This is ridiculous," I yelled, "Something messed up. I need to do the summoning spell again. I know I can get it right this time."

Mr. Simmons appeared saddened and confused as he shook his head at me. "I'm so sorry, Helga, I truly am. I have never before heard of a human as a familiar, let alone a peasant as one. However I simply cannot allow you to try a second time. The Summoning Ritual is sacred and affects a mage's entire life. It would simply be blasphemy against a very special ceremony if you made a second attempt. Like it or not mistress Pataki, that boy was chosen to be your familiar and you cannot change that."

"But, Mr. Simmons, you have to be joking! You honestly expect me to have him as a familiar for the rest of my life?"

He simply nodded and said, "You need to finish the ritual."

"Come on! I can't possibly do this. I don't want him as a familiar!"

Suddenly he became very stern and stood up tall and towering over me, "Helga, if you do not complete the ritual and make him your familiar than I will be forced to expel you from this academy."

All the energy left my body as I slumped forward and turned to the strange boy, but he wasn't there anymore. While I was arguing with Mr. Simmons the stupid peasant tried to run away!

I quickly caught up with him, tackling him to the ground. It wasn't lady-like, but my reputation was pretty much shot at that point anyway. Now it won't just be my lack of successful spellcasting that would be gossiped around campus, but also the fact that I have a peasant familiar. And the most degrading part of it all was how I had to finish the ritual in front of everyone.

I glanced up at Mr. Simmons for one last plea to let me off the hook here, but his mournful look told me I was out of luck.

I turned back to the boy, who was still yelling and going on in his strange language, and I crawled between his legs so I could reach his head easier. As I placed my hand on his cheek he started flipping out even more.

"Be still!" I told him. At the sound of my voice he flinched and again tried to pull away from me. I grabbed the other side of his face to try to hold him in place.

I calmed myself and tried to forget my embarrassment and rage. I was about to take on the most important step in the ritual, and I couldn't do so angry.

Softly, I stated the incantation, "My name is Helga Geraldine Pataki, second daughter of King Robert and Lady Miriam. I send my plea out to the Grand Pentagon that rules over the five powers. Bless this humble individual and make him my familiar."

The boy stopped flailing around as I softly spoke. Perhaps he was finally learning his place as my servant. None of the other familiars acted so wildly when summoned, but maybe it takes a little longer for peasants – free will and all.

I then leaned in to my new familiar in order to seal our contract as eternal companions. As my lips crept closer to him he again started fighting me, trying to shy away. It was annoying to deal with someone so stubborn, but with some effort I managed to touch his lips with mine. It stopped the boy cold, frozen as he accepted the soft touch.

"Very well done," Mr. Simmons announced as I pulled away, "The kiss has now completed the contract and created the bond. Congratulations to all second year students on successfully summoning your partners in your life as mages."

The crowd cheered and then started to disperse and talk amongst themselves. Meanwhile, my stupid familiar started screaming again. I sighed at his idiocy; didn't he know what would happen once the pact was made? None of the other familiars panicked as their skin turned red.

"Calm down already! You've embarrassed me enough today!" He just kept yelling as the steam billowed out from under his clothes. "It will be over soon," I assured him, "It's just the familiar rune being burned on to your skin. Be grateful. In the old days the master would carve the rune in to his familiar."

My words didn't seem to comfort him as he screamed out in agony. The rune inscribed itself across the back of his left hand just before he fainted.

What a burden. Now I have to embarrass myself even more by begging someone to help me carry this garbage familiar up to my room. Fantastic.

* * *

I had a simple life, and a relatively normal one for a seventeen year old boy. True, life as an orphan wasn't the greatest, but it was still a good life regardless. Heck, up until that fateful day my biggest problem was figuring out where I'd get enough money to fix my laptop.

"Eighty bucks. Man, do I have to find a part-time job. This is ridiculous."

As I mumbled to myself I saw a strange, glowing, green, circle-like object floating about a foot above the sidewalk. People were walking around it, but at the same time they appeared like they didn't even notice it. How was no one else surprised by this weird thing just floating in the air?

As I got closer to it I noticed that it was about the same size as me. There was a foreign shine and texture to it and it seemed hollow, solid, and liquid all at the same time.  
I cautiously reached out and gingerly poked the object. It felt soft and firm, wet and dry, as well as cold and warm all at the same time. Why was no one else noticing what is going on?

After looking around at the other pedestrians I again attempted to touch the weird object, this time allowing my finger to sink in to the surface. It was like reaching my hand in to water, but my hand didn't feel wet.

Suddenly, the substance morphed to grab a hold of my arm. I started screaming and tried to pull my hand back out, but it was firmly stuck. Again the passers-by didn't react even when I was screaming and flailing around for help. An instant later the object again morphed to pull my body through it.

There was a bright light that blinded me and I felt weightless. Then, abruptly, I landed hard on the ground, knocking the wind out of me. If I wasn't already having a hard time breathing, I was also encased in smoke. There was a loud ringing in my ears, but I slowly managed to make out laughter and a bunch of people talking in a strange language.

A gentle breeze moved the smoke away from me and the surrounding clamor instantly stopped.  
"Ow, my head," I grumble, barely able to see with my eyes still irritated from the smoke. "Where am I? How did I get here? What was that weird thing in the middle of the sidewalk?"

A male voice said something in the weird language. He sounded shocked. A female voice responded to him as she laughed. The rest of the people laughed with her.

My vision finally cleared and I noticed that I was lying in the grass of a large courtyard, which was in turn nestled inside the walls of what appeared to be a castle. The people around me were all dressed in what looked like fancy school uniforms – black pants or a black skirt; white, button-down shirt; and black cloaks.

Where in the world was I? How did I get here? What was going on? What language were they even speaking?

Right in front of me was a girl with blonde hair pulled half-up with a pink bow. She stood over me in an almost protective manner, but she also looked really ticked. She started yelling at the rest of the crowd and then turned towards the only adult in the group. The man must have been their teacher or something, and she started whining at him.

The argument seemed sort of heated, and I decided I wasn't going to stick around to figure out what they're discussing. While they were distracted I started crawling away in hopes that I'd go unnoticed. What if they were mad about me suddenly showing up? What if I get somehow punished for something I had no control over? And what was that thing that sucked me off the streets of Hillwood in the first place?

Out of nowhere I hear the blonde with the pink bow call out and chase after me. I quickly tried to get on to my feet to run away, but she easily caught up and tackled me to the ground. With a strength I wouldn't have imagined coming from a tiny girl, she easily flipped me so I was sitting up and facing her.

The entire student body stared at us, laughing and murmuring. That was when I noticed that every last one of them had an animal with them. Including a dragon? What was this place?

I started freaking out and tried to scurry away from the blonde girl. She got more and more frustrated with me and again started yelling. But what was I supposed to do? There was a fricken dragon just standing behind everyone!

"What on earth is going on here?" I started shouting. I may not have been able to understand them, but maybe they could understand me. "Who are you people? Why is there a friggen dragon here? Where is this place? What are you all saying? I can't understand anything! Speak in English! Please!"

The blonde seemed anxious as she turned to the teacher. He looked sad as she turned back to me.

"Oh, lord! Are you gonna kill me?" I'm not even sure if she knows what I'm saying, but I can't just sit there and let her sacrifice me for her weird cult or whatever was going on. Besides, perhaps something I said would sound familiar to her.

"I'm so sorry that I invaded," I continued, "I'll leave right away and not tell anyone about this place. I'm sure no one will even believe me. I just need someone to point me to the exit. Please, I'm so sorry, I really am!"

The girl started crawling on the ground, sliding between my legs and placing her hands on either side of my hips. She leaned in super close. God, the whole situation would have been so sexy if I wasn't so terrified at the moment.

I shuffled backwards on the ground, trying to scurry away from her. She crawled with me and placed a hand on my cheek.

"Wait! Wait! What are you doing? There's all these people around! I don't understand anything that's going on! Someone please just-"

She barked something at me in her language, startling me still for a moment as she placed her other hand on my other cheek, holding my head in place. I tried to fight her, but she held her grip.

She then closed her eyes and let out a slow, calming breath. When she opened her eyes again she spoke in a sweet, gentle tone. It was soothing as she spoke to me. For a brief moment I didn't feel scared or a strong compulsion to get the heck out of Dodge.

When she was done with her speech – which I really hope I didn't need to understand – she started to lean in for what seemed like a kiss.

"Wait! What are you doing? I don't even know you!" I tried to pull away from her, struggling to slink away. It was a bit of a strain and in the end her lips managed to greet mine.

My heart felt like it completely halted and raced at the same time. A warm chill spread through me as I sat there in shock, her lips pressed against my mouth, her fingers pulling me in. For that instant I forgot that I wasn't in Hillwood and that I was instead surrounded by strange people, speaking in a strange language, in a strange location, and with a dragon.

My eyes were wide as she pulled away, letting go of me and rocking back on to her toes.  
The teacher seemed thrilled that the girl kissed me. What weird place is this?

The teacher started talking to the girl, and then turned to the crowd and said something else. The crowd started cheering and then the students started wandering off.

"We didn't just get married, did we?" I knew she wouldn't understand me, but I hoped the answer was "no".

Then my body abruptly started to burn. I felt horribly feverish. My eyes lost focus, my mouth became dry, my skin itched and burned. I couldn't help but cry out in pain. "What's happening to me? I feel like I'm on fire! What did you do to me?"

The blonde girl with the bow gave an exasperated sigh at my pain and mumbled something to me. My skin turned bright red – as if I had a major sunburn – and it started steaming!

I got woozy and nauseated. "Help me, please!" I screamed in agony as the back of my left hand felt like it was being both branded and carved in to. The pain was indescribable. Yet she doesn't seem to care.

The teacher seemed both surprised and horribly concerned. The girl, on the other hand, just gave another exasperated sigh as I passed out from the pain.

What on earth could I have possibly done to get stuck here with her?

****A/N: I hope I fully explained things well enough that people got what's going on. This first episode of the show is actually REALLY hard to translate from visual cues to written ones.**

**I didn't originally mean to do the two POVs, I was just going to do Helga's, but the second episode of FoZ starts off with Saito in Tokyo and how he ended up as Louise's familiar and I had to run with it!**

**Also, I didn't intend for Arnold's half to more than double Helga's but as I wrote I realized there was a lot of POV that needed to be described in narration that could be quickly skipped over in animation.**

**Finally, I have NO CLUE if Arnold sounds like Arnold - I personally don't think so, or if Helga still sounds like Helga. This is one of the problems with crossovers when you have the cast of one show REPLACE the cast of another. I need to blend the character personalities together so... *shrug***

**Now off to figure out "serenades in the moonlight" ****


	6. Serenades in the Moonlight

****A/N: Day Six for the July Daily Writing Challenge.**

**Okay, I admit that I cheated for this prompt. It's just…. I've already done so many "Serenades in the Moonlight" scenes that I couldn't think of a new one. Perhaps eventually I'll think of something and then I'll come back and replace this. ChibiSunnie is already poking me to go ahead and write the little story I thought of when I looked at a drawing of hers: Sheena and Eugene's kids chasing fireflies and when the younger son gets hurt his older sister serenades him to make him feel better while he's getting bandaged up. We'll see if I actually get around to writing that…**

**In the meantime, I decided to use this challenge to try to promote my current on-going story: **_What Is Truly Meant To Be: A Hey Arnold Musical_**. I know, it's kinda lame for those of you who are my faithful readers, but it's better than nothing at all, right?**

**Anyway, my "entry" for the challenge is the opening of my fifth chapter – with a few possible spoilers edited out. I hope you still enjoy.****

**Serenades In The Moonlight**  
**Opening to Chpt 5: Nobody Wants To Be Lonely**

An awkward sixteen-year-old walked down the street with his guitar strapped to his back. He knew his route well, so well he could have walked it in his sleep. He had been traveling the same strips of road for the past decade, all to make his evening vigils. He had matured quite a bit over the years, and started to grow in to his own. He still wasn't the typical definition of handsome, but he had climbed out of the ranks of "geek" a few years back, so it was a start.

He had become tall and lanky – quickly losing the baby-fat gut he carried around in elementary school. He kept his hair short now with just a little bit of gel in it to keep a hint of his customary spikes. He even switched up his old coke-bottle glasses with a more stylish and sleek pair of oval-lenses. Everyone complemented him on how much better they fit the shape of his long face.

He had broken away from the "geek" mold when he was about fourteen and his classmates started throwing more and more co-ed parties. He started spinning to hide from awkward party conversation, but after Arnold's "Geek Party" in fourth grade his deejay skills were becoming more and more popular. Next thing he knew, he wasn't just a "must have" for all of the "cool" parties, but he was actually getting paid for his services. It was thanks to the generosity of such classmates as Rhonda Wellington Lloyd and Gerald Johanssen that he was able to buy the designer glasses. It was also thanks to spinning that he got his nickname – DJ BIK. He needed something cool and marketable, so why not use his initials? Brainy Isaac Kincaid – BIK had a nice hard sound to it and it was definitely cooler than his first name.

Before he knew it, Helga G. Pataki's brownstone came in to view. Knowing he was a few minutes from seeing the love of his life quickened his steps. With skills he developed over the years of stalking Helga, Brainy was able to easily climb up the tree planted in the public sidewalk outside her home. One of the branches was even worn from him sitting on it every night, just watching her in her room. Her image always inspired him, but he still couldn't find the words to say how much he cared.

Brainy steadied himself on his perch and swung his guitar to his front. Helga sat curled up on her bed, clutching her pillow tightly as she stared out her window. Brainy started playing the song he had written for her. It wasn't quite done yet, but he had no greater creative muse than the sight of her face.

Helga kept the lights off in her room. She didn't want the light to block her view of what few stars managed to twinkle among the city's luminescence. Besides, she was in no mood to have a bright environment engulf her. She liked the dark, and all it could hide. She heard the faint sound of a guitar outside her window. It was the same melody she heard every night for almost two months now – just about the entire time she's been single - again. The sad tune mimicked her own melancholy and that both infuriated and comforted her. She wished she knew which of her neighbors played the song, but even if she did know she wasn't sure if she would pound them to a pulp or request a copy for her to listen to all day. Unsure which of her conflicting feelings caused it, Helga gripped her pillow closer to her as she rested her head on it.

As Brainy delicately strummed on his tree branch, he stared at Helga's window. Her face was all that was visible with the cloak of darkness hiding the rest of her. She didn't seem to be looking at anything, and he desperately wanted to give her something to focus on.

"Over here," he softly told her. He no longer wheezed as he talked. The heavy breathing problem was due to his sinuses, and even though he still needed a rescue inhaler every once in a while, for the most part his breathing was now fine. "Helga, look at me." Clearly she didn't hear him, or didn't wish to, because she kept glancing aimlessly at the sky. He was thoughtful enough to find a branch that was eye-level with her window, why wouldn't she just look his way? "See me," he pleaded and then looked away to check his fingering, "look at me." He hoped that their eyes would meet when he looked away from his guitar, but her gaze was still scanning the skyline.

Phoebe had a sense that something was wrong, but since her best friend didn't lash out in a whirlwind of destruction, it was hard for Phoebe to pick up on the severity. Helga still kept her grades up in school and didn't seem to let the depression affect her classwork at all. She was just anti-social again, although she didn't revert to hurting or bullying anyone this time. She had sworn to herself that she'd never be that destructive again after breaking Brainy's nose.

The thought of the injury made Brainy brush the bridge just under his glasses. He wanted to jump in through her window, hold Helga close, and tell her to not feel guilty anymore. He was never angry with her when she hit him. At least she acknowledged that he was there. It may have been a bit masochistic, but he even liked getting beaten up by her – at least a little bit.

Helga stirred in her room, her thoughts broken. She started to scan the actual street-level, searching for something. Brainy realized he had stopped playing his song and wondered if that was what distracted her. As much as he wanted to start waving to her and hope she'd see him, he instead decided to start playing again. As soon as the notes passed through the glass of her window pane she seemed soothed. Her head again rested upon her pillow and her eyes drifted away from him.

"No," he again pleaded to her, "Don't look away."

She always seemed to avert her eyes from love lately. Brainy watched her – always hidden in the shadows – as the same four classmates approached her. While he deejayed at Helga's Sweet Sixteen party he saw each one of them try to slow dance with her: Iggy, Park, Robert, and Joe. He should have known better than to play a slow song in the first place. Watching her reject each one of them was bittersweet. Now in the months after the party, watching her still turn each one away was equally bittersweet. Brainy wasn't sure he could handle watching her date someone else, but at the same time he didn't want to believe the inevitable truth: Helga G. Pataki was closed off to love. It was all or nothing, and Arnold was her all.

Brainy sat lost in thought, allowing his fingers to keep playing Helga's song in auto-pilot. If only he could show her that she didn't need Arnold. That he didn't deserve her dedication and passion. If only Helga could see that she could easily love someone else, someone who truly loved her back. He just needed a Grand Gesture to show her.

Brainy was still awkward and shy, even with the DJ BIK make-over. He could never stutter out a sentence longer than five words. Half the time his sentences consisted of just verbs. How could someone so inarticulate possibly win over someone as poetic as Helga?

Without realizing what he did, Brainy's fingers stopped moving across the guitar neck and again Helga stirred. She seemed entranced by his melody and it pleased him to see her touched even on a subconscious level. Brainy smiled at the thought of his humble song moving her so intensely.

Suddenly, Brainy's eyes shot open wide as he realized his Grand Gesture. He softly apologized to an unknowing Helga for his visit being so short and for her to not hear more of the song. He then swung the guitar around to his back and scrambled down the tree. At Helga's front stoop Brainy stole one last glance at his broken angel and wished her good night. With a large grin he raced home to get everything ready.

****A/N: Again, sorry for the lame entry for Day 6… and I can't even start thinking of Day 7 yet since it's not posted so…. We'll see how everything goes. **

**If you'd like to read the whole story you can just check out my profile! n_n**

**Anyway, Brainy's acoustic for Helga was inspired by the song "Emotional Song" by Daniel Cripps. His song can be found on YouTube********


	7. Vast Horizons

****A/N: Day seven for the July Daily Writing Challenge.**

**Yet another day of having no clue what to write. A lot of ideas were thrown at me, but none were even remotely close to this. This tale was actually birthed when I randomly got the mental image of Arnold and Helga on top of that lighthouse at the end of the episode "Married".**

**Yet again I was writing while fighting to keep my eyes open. It seemed to have worked wonders for my first entry, so here's hoping lightning strikes twice...****

**Vast Horizons**  
**ONE SHOT**

"There you are!" Arnold reached the top of Wells Ridge and called out to Helga. She stood on the maintenance catwalk that wrapped around the water tower. Her long hair flew free in the faint breeze as she scanned her horizons. "What on earth are you doing up there?" Arnold yelled up.

Helga looked down at Arnold and beckoned for him to come up and join her.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Helga," he protested, but she insisted that he had to come up and get her in order for her to come down from the tower. Arnold grudgingly complied. After all, aren't handsome princes and shining knights supposed to rescue beautiful princesses from towers?

"Alright, I'm up here, now can we head back?"

Helga grabbed his hand and tugged gently so he'd sit next to her. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Arnold scanned the horizon, "What?"

"Just-" Helga let out a soft sigh and squeezed Arnold's hand, "Everything. I mean, look at it all. The lights of Hillwood. The surrounding mountains. The freshly budding leaves on all the trees. Just look around you, Arnoldo! Isn't it all beautiful?"

Arnold took in the landscape. "Yes, it is absolutely breathtaking. But, what are you doing up here in the first place?"

"Pick a spot, Arnold. Anywhere. The possibilities are endless. Just pick one."

"Helga? What's going on here?"

Helga pointed to the west, "We can just hop in a car and drive. See the country. Wouldn't that be amazing? You always talk about 'having adventures,' so let's go have one!"

"Helga." Arnold's voice got low and a touch stern, "What are we doing on the water tower?"

She pointed to the north in response, "Or a train! We haven't been on a train in ages! We could just ride the rails until we can't go any further north. How's that sound?"

"Helga, seriously now. What is up with you?" He started to get a little concerned and grabbed her shoulders to force her to look at him.

Instead she looked past him and towards the east. "How about we just set sail with Earl? Or we can go back to that beach where we won the sandcastle contest. We can set up a little bungalow and sell tyedyed t-shirts on the boardwalk. Tourists love cheezy crap like that."

"Helga!" Arnold gently shook her to grab her attention. When she finally looked him in the eye he noticed her eyes red and puffy. "Helga? Have- Have you been crying?"

Helga bit her lower lip and pulled away, turning her head away from Arnold, "It's all beautiful and vast and we can go anywhere. Arnold, let's just go anywhere."

"Helga, what is wrong? Why were you crying? What are you talking about? You're scaring me, sweetie. Please, please just talk to me." Arnold reached out his hand and squeezed hers, feeling a sharp stab as his palm pressed against Helga's engagement ring.

"Let's just run away, Arnold. Let's just elope! It wouldn't be that hard. We have money saved up for after the wedding anyway, we just need to swing the extra hundred or so for the drive and a quick stop at the courthouse. Then we can just keep driving. It will be just you and me. Bonnie and Clyde – ya know, without the bank robberies and being shot to death parts."

"You want to elope?" Arnold brushed the hair out of her face and tried to read any kind of reasoning from her expression.

"Yeah! Let's do it! Let's elope," she tried to sound cheerful about the idea, but her voice still sounded pained and the sadness lingered behind her eyes.

"What happened? I thought things were really good finally?"

"Geeze, Football Head! Yes, things are going great. That's why I want to elope. Ya know, to marry you and all? Doesn't that mean things are good? Sheesh!"

Arnold sat quietly for a moment as he contemplated the possibility of just going ahead and running away with her. Eventually he came to the same conclusion he had when she first mentioned it.

"You know we can't actually elope, right?"

"Why not? I mean, I know family is super important to you – so if you want we can kidnap them or something – but family isn't really much to me. So let's forget my parents and Olga and the boarders and all of our aunts and-" Helga shuttered as she pictured Arnie still pining for her, "-creepy cousins. Let's just keep it small, maybe grab Phoebe and Gerald, and just get married. We can do it tonight even! Don't you want to just be married and get it over with?"

Arnold did want to just be married to her. In his heart he already was. He wasn't afraid of the commitment. He wasn't nervous about the marriage. He didn't even really need the extra time to save up money – he had been doing that for years already. Yet his mind was still made up.

"You'll regret not having them there." He pulled her head down to his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her. "You may not think so, but in the future you'll really regret not having them there."

"But they drive me bananas! I can't take it anymore! Olga pretending she's Miss Party Planner, and Miriam acting like it's her damn wedding instead of ours, and Bob being stingy and whining about the cost of everything! I'm sure he wouldn't care about every little price tag if it were Olga getting married. No one cares what we want. No one cares what I want!"

Arnold kissed her on the top of her head and stroked her upper arm, "I care."

"Well, doi! Of course you care, Football head! But this wedding should be about us and should be something we want, not what my family wants."

"But would eloping give you what you want? Look me in the eyes right now and honestly tell me that all of those years you dreamt of our wedding you pictured us in normal clothes standing in front of a judge with no one else around. If you can swear to me right now that is what you've always wanted then I'll agree to it."

Helga pushed off of Arnold's shoulder, placed a hand gently on his cheek, looked him straight in the eyes and softly said, "That is what I want. The only thing about my wedding that I've ever pictured was you as the groom."

"Liar."

"Aw, come on! How'd you know?"

"Because I know you." Arnold pulled Helga in to him and gave her a sweet kiss on the lips. He felt the tension leave her as she sank in his arms. He then pulled away and brushed her cheek with his thumb. "You want to be in an elegant gown in a chapel with a stretch limo as our get-away car. You want the large party where you finally get to be the center of attention. Where it's finally not about Olga, but about you. You want a day where no one compares you to your sister and just goes on and on about how wonderful you look and how happy you are. You want to celebrate with Phoebe. You want to prove to Rhonda that you can look amazing and feminine. You want to joke around with the guys. You do not want to elope."

"What if we eloped, ran away, and then came back for all that other stuff?" She gave a soft, playful pout that made Arnold chuckle.

He pulled her in to a hug and stroked the back of her head, "No. We can't elope and then have the actual wedding."

"Ya know, you're too much of a goody two-shoes there, Arnoldo." She gave him a soft smile and kissed him, "Ya sure you don't want to run to Timbuktu or something? I hear Milwaukee is very nice this time of year."

"Helga," he sternly said before chuckling.

She gave a soft whine in response, "I really hate dealing with my family!"

"I know, but buck up. The wedding is still a few months away. I'll try harder to talk to your family and perhaps we can get them to understand how you're feeling. I'm sure they don't mean to take over. It will be fine, we'll have your dream wedding, and you'll be happy I didn't agree to this eloping silliness."

She sighed a "Yeah, you're right," and they quietly sat in each other's' arms watching the sun set over the beautiful landscape below. As the sky grew dark Helga finally agreed to come down from the water tower and return home with Arnold.

As he helped her down the ladder she gave one last glance at the vast horizon, and then she turned to her smiling fiancé. Finally, she simply asked, "What if we run to Mexico?"

****A/N: After falling back in to the X-Men fandom I've decided I kind of want to do what they did and number the different "universes" to know what stories fall in what continuity.**

**I haven't thought of a "number" yet, but since I sort of picture What Is Truly Meant To Be as a precursor to I Caught You A Star, I also think this story would then follow ICYAS, and that would be most of my stories... so for now we'll call this Universe-Prime.**

**Side Note – apparently Angelblood666 almost wrote a story very similar to this one, and I originally was going to write a story very similar to his! Craziness! So go check out his work on this challenge. He's here on FF! YAY!****


	8. If I Were You

****A/N: Day eight for the July Daily Writing Challenge**

Whoot! Look at me post early today! I sort of didn't have much of a choice, I work from 4pm-10pm tonight, so I kind of had to be done early today.

It was a mad rush between this and my blog. But it's done!

It was so tempting to make "If I Were You" a "Freaky Friday" type story where people switch bodies. But then this idea of Brainy berating Arnold about Helga's love just crept in and I went with it.

Doesn't hurt that it gave me an excuse to watch the ending of the Hey Arnold Movie...**  


**If I Were You**  
**ONE SHOT**

A large boom and strong vibration through his bedroom woke him up early that morning. He went to the window to see the Hillwood Overpass in shambles. It was scary and exciting, and just like his classmates, Brainy couldn't resist heading to Arnold's end of the neighborhood to see what was going on.

It was early, still too soon for Arnold's neighborhood to be demolished. However there was now a large gap in the overpass. Was that part of the demolition? As most typical boys would, Brainy was excited to see more explosions.

He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he was also looking forward to the boarding house blowing up because that meant Arnold finally failed at something and would have to move. It pained Brainy to feel so spiteful about it, but perhaps not having Arnold right around the corner would be what Helga needed to finally see and accept Brainy's love.

When Brainy reached the marked off blocks that would eventually become the FTi Mall he instinctively slinked in to the shadows. It was second nature for him to now move in to Ninja Mode while in public – made it easier for him to sneak up on Helga and hear her beautifully pained poetry. Even if it were about Arnold, it was still some of the most magnificent things Brainy ever heard.

Right outside the Sunset Arms the road was a mess. There were confused construction workers everywhere. Arnold's grandmother was driving a bulldozer. In to other bulldozers. There were already a few overturned, as well as an overturned bus. The residents gathered around the wreck as the police, news crews, and mayor pulled up.

One of the windows on the bus slowly opened and Arnold popped out holding a tape above his head shouting, "I got it! I got the tape!" No one knew what he was talking about. As he explained himself, Gerald climbed out of the bus and then helped pull Helga out.

Brainy's eyes grew wide as he saw Helga leave the wreck. What on earth was she doing in there? Was she alright? She seemed it. Brainy prayed that the scuffs and dirt on her was the extent of the damage. So help him if Arnold had put Helga in danger!

Arnold gave a huge speech about how the FTi owner Mr. Scheck was this villain and how Arnold had proof that his block was part of a historical landmark. With the assistance of a highly athletic woman who looked like a spy from a superhero movie, Arnold managed to show security footage on the jumbotron Scheck had installed on the building across from the boarding house.

The mayor quickly turned to the news cameras after seeing the footage of Scheck burning the document that would prevent the demolition, and reclaimed the neighborhood a historical landmark, stopping Scheck's ability to build his mall.

The man was furious and actually attempted to run over Arnold. Thankfully, Arnold's grandma had already put Scheck's car on blocks and proudly sat on a pile of his tires. Shortly after, Scheck was taken away in a police caddy.

"Tell it to the judge, you big donut hole!" Helga told him as she personally slammed the door on the screaming man. Brainy smiled at the love of his life. She was so amazing. So strong. So assertive.

The excitement of the morning wasn't over yet. Sid and Stinky quickly recapped the morning by commenting on the "Fist fights, car chases, political intrigue, and the overpass blowing up." To which Harold whined about it only being seven-thirty in the morning and being tired. He went to sit down, and managed to sit on the plunger for the explosives the residents of the Sunset Arms wired the street with. Thankfully they placed the explosives too far away from the boarding house and ended up blowing up the vacant building the jumbotron was on – instead of the street as intended.

For the rest of the community, that was the last bit of excitement the day held for them. For Brainy, the most important part of the morning occurred right as the Sunset Arms boarders scattered. Arnold and Helga looked at the scurrying adults, and then watched as the windshield of the wrecked bus shattered. The bus driver had used his metal leg to break free of the bus, and was quickly greeted by an ecstatic woman.

As Arnold and Helga watched the happy couple, Brainy watched the two blonde children. Their dialogue provided the largest shock of Brainy's young life.

"Crazy day," Arnold awkwardly started as he shuffled away from Helga's side.

She looked away and nervously laughed, "Yeah, woo. Said a lot of really nutty things back there."

Nutty things? What was Helga talking about? Brainy crept closer in order to hear better.

Both Arnold and Helga nervously shuffled a touch farther from each other and looked away as they continued their conversation.

"Yeah," Arnold started.

"Yeah," Helga replied, "Umm, about all that stuff I said, Arnold, I- I mean-"

It was obvious to Brainy that something exceptionally awkward and uncomfortable occurred and he was now upset that he was in bed instead of stalking Helga – making sure she was alright. He mentally noted that he'd have to beat Arnold up if he had done something to upset Helga.

"It was crazy back there," Helga finished. It was clear she was having an exceptionally hard time looking Arnold in the eye.

"Yeah," Arnold was just as uncomfortable, "With all the excitement we just- kinda-" He started to rub the back of his head as he looked away from Helga and trailed off his sentence.

Kinda? Kinda what? What did they do in the excitement? It took all Brainy had to not pounce right then and there.

"Got carried away?" Helga gave a soft smile, but her eyes were pleading for Arnold to agree with her.

"You didn't really mean all that, did you?" Arnold looked away and slouched, shying from Helga. Her soft smile dropped and her eyes widened. She seemed almost terrified by the question. With a worried look Arnold clarified, "You don't really love me, right?"

Love! Helga finally confessed to Arnold that she loved him? He finally knew? And he looked like he got socked in the gut? What was wrong with him? How could he not be elated find out he had the love of the most amazing girl either of them have ever known?

Helga almost instantly responded to Arnold's question, the abruptness make her voice squeak a little, "Right."

What was she doing? She was telling him that she wasn't in love with him? Why? Because he looked so terrified? With all the courage it must have taken for her to tell him in the first place, how could he not accept her love? The idiot!

"You were just caught up in the heat of the moment, right?" Arnold gave Helga the same soft smile with pleading eyes that she had given him a moment before.

Again, almost instantly she replied with, "Right!" Her smile beamed as she stood up straight. She seemed elated to be redacting her love confession. What was going on?

"You actually hate me, don't you?" Arnold leaned in and gave her a smile. His tone was that of someone who was purposely encouraging lying. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that Arnold wanted Helga to lie to him; that even if she did agree with him, he'd know it wasn't true. However, it was that Status Quo that both of them seemed to need.

Helga turned away, covered her mouth to muffle the squeal of excitement she must have been suppressing, and looked overjoyed to be able to take her "secret" back. She gleefully swung her arm in celebration and whipped back around.

With her Tough Girl Bully persona fully intact, she replied, "Of course I hate you, you stupid Football Head." She poked at him and shouted, "And don't you ever forget it! Ever!"

Arnold gave a sly smile – again, clearly showing that he knew she was lying – and simply said, "Okay."

As Helga stormed off Arnold gave her his half-lidded smile. Brainy desperately wanted to slap that smile off the boy's face. Instead, he slinked off to follow Helga to make sure she was alright.

As she turned the corner she pressed herself against the building and squealed a "yes" before skipping down the street. She seemed more than fine. Brainy was confused. Did she get over Arnold and that's why she wanted to take back her confession? Was she still in love with him but wanted to pretend he didn't know? What was going on with her?

Brainy turned back towards the Sunset Arms to confront Arnold, but he was already talking to Gerald. Unsure what to do, Brainy stood on the street for a moment. At the sound of his mother calling out to him, he returned home, still pondering what to take away from the conversation he just heard.

After breakfast he closed the door to his room, sat down at his desk, and started writing. Hours passed and a mountain of crumpled up sheets of paper overflowed his trashcan. Finally, he was content with his work and sealed it up in an envelope. He called to his mother that he was going outside, and then raced off with his letter in hand.

Right around dinner time, Arnold's grandfather woke him. The blonde had been sleeping all day after the crazy night he had.

"Hey, Shortman. Dinner's ready. As long as your grandma actually listens for once and stays in jail we'll be able to pick her up in the morning."

Arnold grumbled as he climbed out of bed and followed his grandfather downstairs.

"Oh! And before I forget," Grandpa pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to Arnold, "I found this slid under our makeshift door. Which reminds me, I really need to pick up our front door from the police when I get your grandma."

Arnold stared at the envelope with his name sloppily scribbled across it and placed it next to his dinner plate. After he finished eating, he took the letter up to his room to read.

He didn't recognize the handwriting, but he wished he did. Arnold felt a pain as he read and desperately wanted to talk to the letter's author.

"Dear Arnold,

I hope you know how much of a moron you are. You got the love of a great gal and you don't even know what to do with it. You pretend she doesn't feel that way, but who are you fooling? She's crazy about you, and does more for you than you'll ever know. All because she loves you.

Worst is that she doesn't even see other guys because she's so hung up on you. Yet you keep ignoring her. Man, what I wouldn't give to be you. I want to be the guy she pines over and does stuff for just to make me happy. I want to be the guy she lovingly stares at all day and fills poetry books about."

Arnold pulled away from the letter and stared at the pink poetry book he still had tucked away on his shelf. He never did figure out who wrote it, but now it was obvious it was Helga that wrote those embarrassing – and yet super sweet – poems about him.

He then turned towards his closet and pretended he could see through the door – right at the red high heel he still had from his Valentine's Day date. Did that mean Cecile was Helga too? They did both have blonde hair and a pink hair bow.

Arnold's head began to spin. This was why he wanted Helga to take it all back in the first place. He knew she was lying when she told him she hated him. But if they could just pretend while his mind sorted everything out-

Arnold sighed. It was all too much. His personal bully was actually madly in love with him? Stalking him? Filling poetry books about him? Making late night vigils? Making shrines? And now there was someone out there who wanted to be him just to be the focus of Helga's love? It was all way to overwhelming.

Arnold kept reading, hoping for a clue as to who this person was. Who wanted Helga to love him? Who was jealous of Arnold? Who knew all along that Helga was in love with him?

"I want to hear that heavenly sigh and watch her melt as she says my name!

I've been there since the beginning. I've loved her for as long as she's loved you. This just isn't fair that you have her love and don't want anything to do with it! It's not fair at all! There are others that would kill for what you have.

So be gentle with her heart. I'll happily take if it you don't want it."

The letter was left unsigned.

Arnold sank to his bed and stared at the letter. Someone was horribly passionate about Helga G. Pataki, and it blew him away. His world was drastically changed all thanks to Scheck.

He had that amazing adventure, the overpass by his house got blown up, the building across the street was blown up, he now knew Helga was in love with him, and someone wished he was in Arnold's place in order to be Helga's love interest.

It was just too much, but it made Arnold realize that he couldn't ignore Helga's confession. Even if she did take it back, she deserved to know if Arnold felt the same way. If he didn't, then the letter writer also deserved Arnold telling Helga so she could move on. If it turned out that Arnold did like Helga back, then the letter writer wouldn't be so upset – Helga's love was accepted and appreciated.

Either way, Arnold knew he had a lot to think about.


	9. Of Blood And Honor

****A/N: ****Day nine for the July Daily Writing Challenge**

******Well this didn't turn out as planned. I worked on this for an hour before realizing I started WAAAAAY to far ahead of where I wanted the story to be. I was too busy working this in to a fanfic that I completely missed that it's supposed to be a drabble.**

**I tried to reboot the entry, but I didn't have enough time. So I decided to just post what I had and I'll eventually replace this chapter with my actual entry - when I have free time to write what I intended... :P**

**But at least I still have SOMETHING up, right?**

**This is a direct continuation of my Spellbound challenge.****

**Of Blood And Honor  
Continuation of Familiar of Zero Crossover**

He still felt feverish when he woke up, and his skin itched. The back of his left hand felt numb. Feeling woozy, he slowly sat up, holding his head.

"Where am I?" Arnold looked around the room. The walls were stone bricks and the floor was marble tile. Elegant drapes adorned the French doors that lead to a small stone balcony. There were beautiful tapestries decorating the walls. They all appeared to have different crests on them and had a strange writing underneath. There was a finely crafted table for two, but only one chair. There was an armoire and matching dresser both made out of mahogany and accented with gold. Between them was a vanity with an oval mirror embedding in the most eloquently carved wood he had ever seen. The bed was a magnificent full-sized canopy, and yet Arnold was currently sitting in a pile of straw on the floor.

"It's about time you woke up you stupid peasant!" The voice sounded familiar to him, even if he couldn't understand what was being said. His eyes focused and he saw the blonde girl with the pink bow from before.

"It's- it's you! What am I doing here? What do you want from me?"

Helga sighed, "For the love of pete, what in the world is wrong with you? Why can't you at least speak Tristainese like a normal person? It's bad enough I have a peasant as a familiar, but one who can't even speak properly?"

She shook her head and walked past Arnold and opened up the armoire to put her cloak away, "I guess it doesn't matter. What's done is done and there is no way I could get another familiar anyhow. So I've decided to allow you to continue as my servant. You should be honored."

"Hey! Aren't you listening to me?" Arnold jumped up from the floor, "Don't go walking around casually! I want some answers. Where am I? How did I get here? What was that weird green teleport thing? What language are you all speaking? How do I get home?"

Helga plopped down on the bench next to her vanity and took off her socks. "Such incessant ramblings! You're giving me a headache!"

"Wait, what are you doing now? Come on, don't be so calm! Tell me how to get home!"

Helga stood up and casually undid her skirt, letting it drop down to the floor, she then started undoing her top.

"Oh my gosh!" Arnold blushed as he looked away, covering his face with his hands, "Look, I really have no clue what's going on here, but I'm not like that!"

"Here," Helga picked up her skirt and socks, and tossed both them and her shirt at Arnold.

Feeling the cloth smack against the backs of his hands, Arnold instinctively reached out to catch them before they fell to the floor. When he stood back up he saw Helga standing in her bra and underwear. Again, he started to freak out, stumbling over his words as he tried to cover his face.

"Look, even if you don't understand our language you should still understand the basic duties of a familiar. I expect those washed, pressed, and ready for me by morning. These are really quite simple orders; you think you can handle them, Peasant?"

"What is this?" Arnold's words were muffled through the skirt pressed against his face, shielding him from stealing a peek at Helga. "What am I supposed to do with these? Am I supposed to wear them? A disguise to sneak out? Because I don't think they'll fit me. I think we need a better plan."

Helga put her hands on her hips and watched as Arnold buried his face in her clothes, whipping his head around and mumbling. "Criminey! You can't even understand your mistress' orders? You're worse than a dog, I swear."

"And if this is some weird seduction tactic," Arnold continued talking in to the skirt, "it's not gonna work. I'm not like that, I swear! Look, you seem like you could be a nice girl, but I just don't like you like that."

"Shut up already with the squawking! A parrot would be a better familiar than you!"

"So really, I don't know what I'm supposed to do with your clothing, but they're not what I want. I just want to go home."

"Shut up! Such a simple order and you don't even understand that! What did I do to deserve such a horrible servant?"

"You don't even need to do much, just point me in the direction I need to go to get some help-"

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! You are giving me a migraine!"

"-nothing will come out of kidnapping me. I have no one to get the ransom off of, so really-"

"Oh! That is it! If you won't shut up I'll make you! Where is my wand?" Helga walked over to the table and picked up the slender piece of wood. "Now, how did that Silencing spell go again?"

"-all of you here are bonkers and you really have no right to keep me here," Arnold continued, his face still nestled in Helga's clothes.

"I remember now!" Helga held up her arms like she was about to conduct an orchestra, "Mique zun onch, respect my request and hear me now. Silence!"

As Helga finished her spell, Arnold was hit with an explosion. When the smoke cleared he was a bit charcoaled and lying on the ground, the wind knocked out of him; Helga's school uniform was in burnt pieces all around him.

"What on earth was that? Lightning?" Arnold dazedly asked.

"What?" Helga stood up straight in surprise and listened carefully. Maybe her ears were playing tricks; still ringing from the explosion.

"Alright," Arnold jumped to his feet and pulled his cover shirt off, leaving his green tank. "I was trying to be polite because you're kinda cute, but whatever that was was uncalled for!" He rushed Helga and grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped slightly, but it wasn't in fear of Arnold's attack.

"Wh-wait a minute! I- I think I understood what you just said!"

Arnold softened and held Helga at arm's length. His eyes also grew wide, "Did you just say that you understood me?"

Helga slowly nodded, "Say something else."

Arnold backed away from her, "You-you do know English! Why didn't you speak it before? I only asked you about twenty times!"

"Well this is horrible," Helga sighed as she sat back down on the vanity bench. "Yet again I live up to my stupid codename. That was supposed to be a silencing spell."

"Silencing spell?"

"You!" Helga's confidence returned as she stood back up, looking Arnold in the eye, "What is your name, Peasant?"

"Um, it's Arnold. But, you didn't answer my-"

"Arnold. Fine. Well, now that you can understand me I want you to start following orders."

"Orders? What are you talking about? I demand that you finally answer my questions! Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here? How do-"

"You expect me to take demands from you? You're just my familiar! How dare you talk to your mistress like that?"

"Wait, mistress? Familiar? Like, those cats that follow witches around?"

"You really don't know anything, do you? Fine. My name is Helga Geraldine Pataki. We are at the Tristain Academy of Magic, where I am studying to become a full-fledged mage. And somehow I ended up with you-" The word you sounded like a curse coming from her lips, "-when I performed my Familiar Summoning Ritual. You are now my servant throughout the rest of our days."

"Now wait a minute! I didn't agree to-" Suddenly Arnold remembered his left hand, he looked down and saw a line of runes etched in to his skin.

****A/N: Yeah, I know. I know. "This has nothing to do with blood or honor?" u_u' **

**If I managed to get to the scene I intended then there would be a lot dealing with blood and honor... I just didn't get there. :P**

**Also, I feel that this insane amount of dialogue is kinda boring. Sorry guys...**

**And yes, in the anime Louise DID strip in front of Saito in a very nonchalant manor - that wasn't my idea.****


	10. Letters From Nowhere

****A/N: Day ten for the July Daily Writing Challenge**

**For a moment I didn't think I would make it! I knew exactly where I wanted to go with this story as soon as I saw the prompt at about 7am, but it just kept forever to write it off and on throughout the day!**

**Honestly, I also sort of laughed when I read the prompt. Of COURSE I would write a drabble where Brainy leaves an anonymous note TWO DAYS before this prompt comes up... Good thing it was easy for me to re-invent the wheel today. n_n****

**Letters From Nowhere  
ONE SHOT**

The folded piece of paper was gingerly slipped through the slots of the locker door, careful that no one witnessed the act. At the sound of his laughter coming down the hallway, the figure quickly dashed around the corner, stealing a peak as he came in to view.

"And then I said, "But, Sir, that's not the calculator, that's the frisbee!"

"Wilikers, Sid. I reckon that's the funniest story I have ever heard." Stinky continued to chuckle as he spun the combination to his locker.

"Yeah. I mean, the whole time I wasn't expecting you to say frisbee! It's a good thing I wasn't drinking milk, or it woulda shot outta my nose!" Harold laughed so hard he snorted.

"So, what are you fellas doin' tonight?" Stinky asked as he filled his backpack.

"I got nothin' planned," Sid replied, "What about you, Harold?"

"Well, I was supposed to-" as Harold opened his locker a folded piece of paper fell out on to his shoe, "Hey, what is this?"

He picked up the paper that was tightly folded in to a tiny square. His name was written with exquisite penmanship on one side. He delicately unfolded it, until a note was revealed to be written on the inside.

"Boy howdy, it looks like a love note!"

"Harold's got a note from a girl?" Stinky dragged out the last word, stifling his laughter as he finished his sentence. The two smaller boys were nearly bent over in laughter.

"Harold's got a girlfriend," Sid mocked in a sing-songy voice.

"Shut up! I do not! I don't even know what the note says yet."

"Well then read it already," Stinky encouraged.

"F-fine then! I will!" Harold pouted at his friends. After taking a moment, Harold started reading the note aloud. He stated each word slowly and carefully. He was never very good at reading thing out loud, so he wanted to make sure his friends wouldn't make fun of him for stumbling over anything. "My darling Harold," he read.

"Darling Harold?" Stinky turned towards Sid and choked his laugh down with a snort.

"Someone has a crush on Harold! That's rich!" Sid burst in to laughter and collapsed against the wall. Stinky soon followed suit.

"Knock it off you guys! It's not funny. Wh-who knows if someone has a crush on me! I haven't read anything yet."

"Darling Harold," Sid choked out between laugh fits, reigniting Stinky's own laughter.

"If- If you guys don't shut up, I'll pound ya!"

"Whatever you say," Stinky started. He then paused, looked at Sid, and finished with, "Darling Harold." The two boys started up again, having difficulty catching their breath.

Harold huffed at the boys, threw his books in his backpack, and stormed out of the school. The figure that placed the note in the locker slinked away before being seen.

"Stupid Sid," Harold grumbled as he walked home, "Stupid Stinky. Making fun of me for this stupid note. I don't even know what it says and they're making fun of me."

Harold stopped and looked down at the letter in his hand. Curious about what was written, he looked around to make sure he was alone and then hid in a nearby alley.

Just as before, he slowly and carefully read the letter aloud.

"My Darling Harold,

I've tried my hardest to ignore my feelings and forget about you. I've tried to remind myself what would happen if the world knew that I liked you liked you. But, alas, it has all failed. I cannot deny my feelings any longer. I've tried to be subtle, but you haven't seemed to notice. Or, perhaps you have noticed and you're purposely ignoring how I feel. Oh, how I wish that isn't true! Anyway, I'm not ready for the world to know how I truly feel, but know that someone deeply cares for you.

Sincerely,

Your Secret Admirer"

Harold looked away from the looseleaf in his hand, "Secret admirer? So- so the guys were right! Someone does have a crush on me." He softly chuckled at the thought. Aside from Patty calling him charming, no one had ever shown any sort of interest in him. Well, that is except for Rhonda trying to pull him in to the Tunnel of Love at the Cheese Festival, but she keeps denying it ever happened.

"Someone, deeply cares for you," Harold reread. He always thought that girls were repulsed by him. He couldn't help but gleefully chuckle as he tucked the letter in to his pocket. With a little bounce in his step, he headed the rest of the way home.

The next day, Harold strutted in to the classroom, still giddy about a girl actually having a crush on him – of all people.

"Well, look who's in a good mood," Stinky pointed out.

"It must be because of his girlfriend," Sid chuckled, cracking up Stinky as well.

"So- so what if that is why I'm so happy?" Harold scolded as he took his seat. "I don't see any girls liking either of you. You're just jealous. That's what it is." He scowled at his friends before turning to face the front of the room.

"Harold has a girlfriend?" Gerald whispered to Arnold, who shrugged.

Harold hummed to himself as he opened his desk to put his books inside. Neatly tucked right in the center, waiting for Harold to find it, was another note. This one was folded like a pinwheel, his name just as neatly written across one of the sides.

Harold nervously pulled the letter out of his desk. Where were they coming from? He couldn't wait to see what sweet things could be written in this new letter, but he was also unsure if he could take any more teasing from Sid and Stinky.

"Hey, Harold," Arnold softly commented, "What is that?"

"Is it another love letter?" Stinky snickered, and was soon joined by Sid.

"Shut up!" Harold yelled before turning to Arnold, "I dunno. This is the second letter I've got since yesterday. I dunno who they're from, neither. They just keep poppin' up from nowhere." He scanned the room of everyone there early, "None of you guys saw anyone near my desk, right?"

"I didn't notice anyone," Sheena chirped, "Did you, Eugene?"

"Not that I can recall, no," the redhead replied.

"Pfft, like I'd be paying attention to your desk, Pink Boy," Helga grumbled.

"I apologize, but I too didn't see anyone in the vicinity of your desk," Phoebe shrugged.

"I didn't see anyone either," Arnold chimed in, to which Gerald added a "Nope."

"Well, what about you, Rhonda?" Harold asked with a soft whine.

"Please, like I would care about anything that has to do with you," she huffed and continued to flip through a fashion magazine. Nadine simply shook her head and shrugged.

"It sure is a mystery, ain't it?" Stinky smirked.

"Maybe it's a super geeky chick, or someone super ugly!" Sid added.

"Yeah," Stinky continued, "Maybe that's why she's only giving you letters. Maybe she's so ugly she's not allowed to come out in public."

Once again the boy started laughing at their friend's expense. Arnold looked over to see Harold's eyes watering up as he slouched in his seat.

"Why don't you read the letter," Arnold encouraged, "Maybe they signed it."

"Yeah, maybe they did." Harold unfolded the note and quickly scanned the bottom. No name. He slouched some more, a bit defeated.

"So, man, what does it say?" Gerald was leaning in, wondering what a love letter to Harold could possibly sound like.

Harold looked at Arnold for guidance, and when the blonde nodded Harold started to read. "Dearest Harold-"

Sid's voice echoed throughout the mostly-empty classroom as he started up another laughing fit.

"Just ignore them," Arnold advised, "what does it say?"

Harold cleared his throat and began again, "Dearest Harold, you looked so confused and angry yesterday. Is that because of my letter? I didn't mean for your friends to tease you like that."

The students all turned towards Sid and Stinky, who instantly stopped giggling and slid down in their seats.

"This is probably why it's best you don't know who I am," Harold continued, "It just surprises me how much I care for you. Never in a million years would I have ever guessed that you would be my dream guy." Harold started blushing at the thought of being anyone's "dream guy".

As he fought to keep the smile off his face, he read on, "However, I've seen you voll-ner-a-bull and scared and it is the most adorable thing ever. I've seen you brave and kind as you stand up for what is right, and it makes me swoon."

The whole class had gathered around Harold in order to hear his letter, everyone except for Rhonda. She sternly sat in her seat, flipping through her magazine. A faint blush formed on her cheeks.

Harold finished his letter, "I've seen how amazing you are as you proudly help out Mr. Green at his shop. You've proven that you are actually a lot smarter than everyone thinks. As much as I'm afraid to admit it, you truly are my dream guy. Until I can tell you who I am, I'll forever be, Your Secret Admirer."

"Wow," Sheena squeaked as she exhaled the word.

"That is so sweet," Phoebe stole a quick, knowing glance at Gerald – making the boy blush. "Wouldn't you agree, Helga?"

"Eh," Helga feigned boredom. In reality, she was envious that someone was able to send such a sweet letter to her crush. She silently wished for such bravery so she could eventually do the same for Arnold.

"I hope you find her soon, Harold," Nadine smiled and then returned to her desk.

"This- this is amazing, Arnold!" Harold's good mood was restored. "Normally girls find me mean, and fat, and dumb, and loud, and obnoxious!"

"Well, that's for sure," Rhonda muttered in to her magazine.

"But this girl," Harold continued, ignoring Rhonda's comment, "whoever she is, she thinks I'm special. She really likes me and I'm her dream guy!"

"That's great, Harold," Arnold smiled and gave the husky boy a gentle pat on the back before heading to his seat.

"A girl really likes me," Harold softly stated to no one. It was going to be a good day.

The next day, as the school day ended, Nadine blocked Harold from bolting out of the classroom.

"Hey, what gives?"

"Excuse me, Harold," Nadine stepped slightly to the side so the two of them could walk to their lockers, "I was just wondering if we could set up a time to meet up to work on our history project."

"Uh, yeah, sure." Harold started to grow grumpy at the thought of doing the project. History was always so boring to him. "I have temple on Fridays. Other than that, I'm free whenever ya want."

"Alright. If you're free now we can head to the library?"

"The library?" Harold whined, "But that's gonna be so boring."

"Well, we need to start somewhere, don't we? It will be fine. I'll see you there, right?"

Harold reached his locker and started to turn the combination. "Fine," he whined, "I'll meet you at the stupid library."

Nadine nodded and headed for her own locker.

"Finally!" Harold swung his locker open. Another note drifted on to his foot as it did two days before. Picking it up, Harold whipped around to see if anyone was nearby. The halls were filled with students readying to leave. There was no way he could tell where the letter came from.

Harold's heart raced as he looked down at the latest note. This time it was folded in to its own envelope with a little tab that read "Pull Me" and an arrow pointing in the direction to pull.

Clutching the letter to his chest, Harold quickly gathered his belongings and ran to the alley he read the first note in.

As he tucked himself in to the shadows of the alley, he plopped his backpack on to the ground and then sat on it. He wasn't sure if he was out of breath from the run or from anticipation about the message hidden in his hand. Delicately, he tugged on the tab and unfolded the note.

"Sweet Harold,

I'm so excited that my letters are making you happy. It is great to see you smile. Are you starting to figure out who I am? I hope you can and that you like me back. I'm still not sure how I'll be able to be with you in public. I want to so badly, but I have my reputation to worry about. What will people say if they see that you are my boyfriend? It is getting so hard to ignore my feelings though. To hide them from everyone, including you. I want to let you know so badly.

You're most devoted,

Secret Admirer"

"Are you starting to figure out who I am?" Harold read again, "I hope you can." He placed his head against the brick wall. The girl who had a crush on him wanted him to figure out who she was, but he had no clue. He began to feel stupid again, but remembered what he read in the note the day before. She thought he was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for – including himself.

Harold smiled. His mystery girl had faith in him when no one else seemed to. He felt smarter and more handsome simply by believing what his secret admirer wrote.

"The only other person who ever made me feel better about myself was-" Harold's eyes widened and his jaw loosened with realization. There was another person who made him feel exactly the same way his admirer did.

"Patty," Harold whispered her name. Could she be the one leaving the notes? All the sweet things about him sound like stuff Patty would say. Harold also knew that she had excellent penmanship. He also couldn't deny that there was something special between the two of them. He wasn't sure if he liked her romantically, but it wouldn't be so bad if she wanted to be his girlfriend.

"Oh, no! I'm gonna be late!" Harold abruptly remembered his meeting with Nadine at the library. He scooped up his backpack, pocketed the note, and ran off to work on his project. "Aw, man, she's gonna be so mad!"

Another day ticked along and Harold wasn't sure what to do about Patty. He was almost sure that she was his admirer, but he didn't know if he just wanted to be friends or if he liked her back. Should he let her know that he figured out that she was writing the messages? What if he were wrong? He couldn't stand to be humiliated like that.

Driving himself bonkers, Harold decided to do the smartest thing he could think of. He went to talk to Arnold during recess.

"You got another love note yesterday?"

Harold nodded as he sat on the swing next to Arnold. "Yeah, and it said that she hoped I figured out who she was and that I liked her back. And I think I do know who it is, but I don't want everybody to laugh and make fun of me, and I don't want her to not be friends with me anymore if I'm wrong."

"I don't think she'll stop being your friend, even if she isn't the girl who is writing these notes."

The figure that placed the first letter in Harold's locker crept around the jungle gym, pretending to simply play on it while listening in on the conversation.

"I think you should just simply ask her if she knows anything about the letters," Arnold continued.

"But what if she lies because she's not ready for me to know that it's her?"

"Well, I guess there's really no way to know if she's lying. I say to trust that she's going to tell you the truth. Try talking to her alone. That way she's more comfortable that no one else will know. If she is the girl writing the letters, maybe she'll be happy that you know who she is."

The figure nearly fell off the playset. Luckily, a quick ankle twist caught a foot on a part of the jungle gym. With a quick movement, the figure climbed off and ran to a corner of the playground in order to be alone.

"This is it," the figure thought, "Harold knows who I am. There's no hiding it any longer." With a soft smile, the figure pondered what to write in to the last note.

As the bell rang for the end of the day, Harold slowly crept out of the classroom and intently watched the halls, hoping to find who was placing the notes in his locker.

"Hey, Harold," a soft monotone voice crept up behind him.

With a jump, Harold spun around, "H-Hey, Patty!"

"How have you been? I haven't seen you all week."

"Yeah, well, I've been a little busy with school work and all." Harold dug his toes in to the floor and avoided eye contact.

"That's a shame," Patty replied. "Oh yeah, before I forget, Sid and Stinky told me you were getting love notes or something."

"Yeah?" Arnold's voice picked up as he waited for Patty to confess to the letters.

"Well, is it true?"

"Yeah it is," he replied happily, "I have a secret admirer who writes all these super sweet things about me and keeps telling me that she really likes me."

Patty smiled, "I can totally see that, Harold. There are a lot of things about you that are likeable."

"You really think so?" Harold had a slight pleading tone to his voice.

"Yeah. I really do. You're a great guy, Harold. Any girl would be lucky to have you as a boyfriend. I'm actually surprised it kept this long for someone to say something. I know I noticed as soon as we met."

Harold melted a little as Patty smiled at him. She placed a hand on his arm as she walked past. A few feet away she gave him a little wave over her shoulder as she shouted, "I hope you figure out who your mystery girl is."

Harold blushed a little as he walked the rest of the way to his locker. He opened the door slowly in an attempt to catch the love note that he assumed was tucked inside.

Resting on top of his backpack was the next letter, this time folded to look like a heart.

Excitement filled Harold as if it were the first night of Hanukah. Before he even started packing his bookbag, Harold carefully opened the note.

"My Precious Harold," he read aloud and grinned ear to ear. Poking her head from around the corner, Harold's admirer watched with excitement as her latest message was read.

"I cannot hide my feelings from you any longer. I may not be ready to let the rest of the school know that I like you like you, but I have to at least tell you who I am. Hopefully you'll like me back. I'm not sure what to do if you do like me like me, but I'll think of something.

Please meet me at Slausen's after school today. I'll be wearing a flower pin.

Until We Can Finally Meet,

Your Secret Admirer"

Harold pocketed the note and placed his books in to his bag with a haphazard motion. He wasn't concentrating at all on what he was doing. Instead, his mind was off in its own place, dreaming of his admirer. He was finally going to meet her. Nothing else mattered at that moment.

"Harold," Arnold called for him from down the hall.

"Oh, hey, Arnold," he absentmindedly responded.

"Did you ever talk to that girl to see if she's your admirer?"

"Not yet, but I'm going to Slausen's right now to meet her."

Harold couldn't hide his excitement as he talked with Arnold. The figure beamed as she heard how happy her notes made Harold, and how much he was looking forward to meeting her. Everything was going exactly as planned. Within an hour she should finally have Harold as her boyfriend. Now to figure out what to do with the rest of the school knowing about them.

"Well, good luck," Arnold smiled, "I hope everything goes well for you two."

"Oh, I know it will," Harold closed his locker and started to walk beside Arnold, "I think I really like Patty back too. I just might tell her that I do want to be her boyfriend."

"That's great, Harold! I know you two will make a great couple."

"Thanks," Harold blushed, "Patty really is a great girl, isn't she?"

As the boys passed down the hall, talking about Harold's date at Slausen's, they passed by Rhonda. Her eyes slowly filled with tears. As she ran to the girl's bathrooms she unfastened the flower pin from her sweater.

****So, what do you guys think? Kinda sappy, kinda heartbreaking... Kinda Harold/Patty... Kinda Harold/Rhonda...**

**I never wrote Harold before, so I hope I did well with him. I watched "Hey Harold" and "Harold v. Patty" before writing this to try to get the dynamic down. Patty is another character I haven't done yet, so I'm also hopeful I got her alright.**

**Did you guys know all along who the admirer was? Part of me wanted it to be obvious, part of me wanted it to be a surprise at the end... *shrug***

**Perhaps some day I'll shake this baby off and continue with it, but for now it's here as a super-long one shot (It's about 8pages and 3500 words long!)****


	11. It's Too Late

****A/N: Day eleven for the July Daily Writing Challenge**

**I saw the prompt at 6:30 this morning and instantly started writing. Well, it kept me about a minute of running through characters in my head before landing on the Kokoshkas... and THEN the story just flowed out of me. Got it done and posted on DeviantArt by 8:30! Whoot for getting it done super early this time! So what kept so long to post over here? Work at 9am, a long nap, and back to beta-reading for a friend... but it's still up on the 11th, so that's something!****

**It's Too Late  
ONE SHOT**

The door swung open with a thud, followed by another as two suitcases dropped to the floor.

"Suzie, where are you going?" Oskar asked with a whine in his Eastern European accent.

"I- I don't know Oskar," his wife replied as she picked up a cardboard box and carried it outside the apartment door.

"Well, when will you be back?"

Suzie stopped dead, a confused look scrolled across her face as she slowly turned back around, "You honestly have no clue what's going on, do you, Oskar?" She gently placed the box on the ground, placed her hands on the two suitcases, and quickly slid them across the floor so they were outside the apartment as well. "I am leaving you. I'm not coming back."

"But, if you leave who will make my meals and take care of me?"

"See? See, Oskar? That is exactly the problem," Suzie stormed up and started poking him in the chest. "Your wife tells you that she's leaving you and all you care about is how you'll be fed. You don't care about me at all, you only care about yourself. You always have and you always will." Suzie turned away, throwing her hands up in defeat, "I don't know why I ever thought that would change."

"Come on, Suzie, I can change. You don't have to go. I learned how to read, and I got a job, didn't I? Isn't that changing?"

"Yes, it is, but it's not enough. You only finally learned to read because the other boarders were teasing you. I'm proud that you eventually learned, but it was for all the wrong reasons. You didn't want to better yourself; you just wanted to win a bet. And your job is a paper route, and you tried to get Arnold to do it for you!"

"Hey, I do the route myself now. I've learned. See? I'm getting better."

"Not fast enough for me, Oskar. It's too little and too slow. I'm in my thirties and I wanted to have a family. I wanted to be a mother. But I can't even think of starting a family with you when I'm too busy taking care of you. I'm your wife, not your mother."

"But you just said you wanted to be a mother, I was just giving you what you wanted," Oskar gave a soft chuckle.

"This isn't funny!"

Oskar instantly stopped, "Aw, come on. Didn't I show you that I can handle a baby? What about your sister's kid?"

"You hated Baby Oskar. You said so on multiple occasions."

"Yeah, but when he was sick I took care of him and brought him to the hospital to make sure he was okay. I like the kid now."

"But it takes you too long to get to that point. You have to wait until the breaking point before you care about anybody but yourself!"

Oskar took a step towards his wife, his arms open, "I care about you."

Suzie stepped away from him, "You sure have a funny way of showing it."

"I can get better. I'll try harder. I'll- I'll make you dinner, how about that?"

"You mean you'll get Mr. Hyunh to cook dinner and then pretend you were the one who did it," she replied flatly.

"No. I'll do it. I will make dinner. You can even watch me to make sure I'm not doing any funny business." He gave another awkward chuckle.

"That's still not enough. One dinner isn't going to get me to stay with you."

"Then what will? How do I get you to stay?"

"You can't, Oskar. You have to change too much, and you can't." Suzie picked the box back up and started down the stairs.

After taking a moment to realize what was happening, Oskar hurried after her. "Is it about the money?"

Frustrated, Suzie put the box back down as she reached the landing. "Did you seriously ask me if it's 'about the money'? Of course it's 'about the money'! It's always 'about the money' when it comes to you, Oskar! You mooch off me, you mooch off the other boarders, you scheme your way through life, you gamble, you make horrible investments, and worst yet is that you barely make any of your own money! I have to work two jobs to try to keep us in our home, pay the bills, keep food on the table, and attempt to put some away so we can actually buy our own place. But any time I get even the slightest bit of money saved you have to go and spend it, or invest it in some get-rich-quick scheme, or gamble it away."

With tears filling her eyes, and her jaw visibly twitching from how tightly she had it clenched, Suzie turned away from the man she once loved, picked up the box, and carried it the rest of the way down the stairs. "I'm exhausted, Oskar, and you just weigh me down. I'm done."

"I know I don't do well, but I try to get more money." Oskar's voice got soft and sincere – a sound rarely heard, "I know it would help us, and so that's why I always try to get more. I'm sorry that you have to work so hard."

"Don't give me that, Oskar. You aren't trying to get more money for us. You're getting more money for you. If you cared about us you would use your own money and leave mine alone! You would get a better job, or at least another one so I wasn't the only one tired all the time. If you just worked honestly for once, instead of trying to con money out of everyone, perhaps we'd actually have something to show for it." She shook her head and bit her lip, choking down the whimper growing in her voice, "And just when I'm about to finally get us out of the red, I find out that you took the money for our bills and spent it on- on- on that stupid butter thing!"

"It's a cool invention. You press the button and a slice of butter falls out!"

"Or you can just use a knife since you'll need one to spread the butter anyway!" Suzie placed the box next to the front door of the Sunset Arms boarding house and passed Oskar on the stairs as she headed back up for the suitcases.

"I'm sorry I took the money. I thought this would be good for us."

"So not having money for our bills is good for us now?"

"Suzie-" Oskar lazily followed her back upstairs, a little irritated in the forced exercise.

"No, Oskar! I'm done! I am done. You are not sweet talking me in to staying this time." She picked up her suitcases and headed back to the stairs.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kokoshka? What's going on?"

A soft voice broke in to their argument, stopping Suzie from continuing down the stairs. "Oh, hello, Arnold. I'm sorry if we bothered you," Suzie whipped around to glare at her husband, "It won't happen anymore."

"You two are fighting again, aren't you?" Arnold was just as used to the routine as Oskar was. Suzie would threaten to leave, or to kick Oskar out, but in the end they would make up.

"This will be the last time you'll hear us fight." Suzie kneeled so she was even with the nine-year-old, and gave him a hug. "Goodbye, Arnold. It was wonderful to watch you grow in to such a fine young man. It's good to know that there are still gentlemen in the world." Suzie glared at Oskar and then stood back up. "Tell your grandfather that I'll give him a call later to talk about the room."

"Mrs. Kokoshka, you're not seriously leaving, are you?"

She gave Arnold a soft smile in response. "I know you've tried to help Oskar become a better person, and I thank you. It's rather pathetic that a grown man has to have a nine-year-old as a mentor, but I am grateful. I just can't stay in this relationship anymore. It's not healthy, and if there's one thing you should learn, Arnold, it's to not stay in unhealthy relationships."

She carried the suitcases past Oskar and down the stairs.

"Suzie, what if you can keep the money? I won't touch your money any more. I will use my own money. Will you stay then?"

"I'm sorry, Oskar. I want to believe you. I want to stay. Lord knows that I still love you for some reason. But we've had this argument too many times. You've sworn you'd change too many times. I can't trust that you'll actually do what you say. You've lied too many times." She shook her head and again choked back tears as she opened the door.

"If I do change, will you come back?" Oskar pleaded, "I don't know how to be on my own. I don't know how to be without you."

Suzie placed the suitcases on the front stoop, picked up the cardboard box, and balanced it on her hip; placing her free hand on the doorknob. "You're going to have to learn. I won't be back. Even if you do change, it's too late. I can't waste any more of my life with you. I'll have my lawyer send divorce papers by next week."

Her body slouched as she looked away from Oskar and Arnold, making sure neither saw her start to cry, "I'm so sorry, Oskar. Goodbye."

****A/N: Man, was Suzie mad!**

**I have no clue how I feel about this. Her arguments in "Arnold as Cupid" seemed more "WE'RE SOOOO THROUGH!" than mine, and Oskar was so much more of a scam artist in that episode... Yet she took him back simply by saying "You keep the money" So how is it that Oskar improved over the series and NOW is when Suzie finally breaks...?****


	12. Dawn in Darkness

****A/N: Day thirteen for the July Daily Writing Challenge**

**First off, sorry about missing yesterday. I just couldn't think of anything for "Shooting Star" so I "cheated" by posting my story from Valentine's Day 2011.**

**Secondly, IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII...am not too happy with this prompt... *sigh* It just didn't... I dunno... *shrug***

**Oh well, we'll see what you guys think.****

**Dawn In Darkness**  
**ONE SHOT**

I've been alone most of my life. I've been picked on as long as I can recall. First I was that girl with the "dwarf parents". Everyone teased about how short my parents were, and how they must have been part of The Lollipop Guild or that they saved Snow White from the evil queen. It only got worse when we all became taller than my folks.

I was also the girl that got held back a year. That was when I started getting the reputation of being stupid. I wasn't held back because I didn't do well at school. I was held back because I was "anti-social" in kindergarten. How could I be social when the rest of the class didn't want anything to do with me?

I was already older than the other kids in my class, so I was naturally larger. Then I got an unexpected growth spurt in fourth grade. Since then I've been known as Big Patty. Everywhere I go I hear the nickname. The other kids make fun of me, like I'm this hulking person. Walking around with my parents doesn't help much.

With years of being teased what was I supposed to do but start fighting back? If I'm tough then people won't mess with me. It's not like I enjoy beating people up. In fact, I'm actually kind of a gentle person deep down. It's just; you need people to be a little afraid of you to stop them from picking on you. So, I fought back once, and then again, and pretty soon my temper got the better of me.

I guess that's why I'm used to sitting alone now, and why I hate lunch period. It just shows me how much I'm feared and disliked. No one sits with me. I get so bored and lonely. But at least the other kids don't really mess with me. I've got that reputation that scares them.

And if I'm going to be alone anyway, I guess it's better that the other kids don't tease me, right? I'm really not sure anymore. I mean, my reputation was fine and all, but now I think I want something else. Something more. I don't think I want to be this mean "Big Patty" any longer.

I think it all really started with that Rhonda chick's party. I'm not really sure why she bothered to invite me, but I'm glad she did. Sure, I wasn't having fun at first. My reputation and looks kept any of the guys from asking me to dance. But when I stepped outside to get away from everyone I ended up meeting Harold.

He's actually a really cool guy. He gets me, you know? We both thought of bringing cherries outside to toss at the trashcan out back. His aim was a little off, but still. And he understands how a person's reputation can be completely different than who they really are. Just because he was held back a few years and is larger than everyone he also has this reputation of being large, loud, and obnoxious. But he's actually kinda sweet.

A little bit of a knucklehead though. I was able to easily trick him in to dancing with me; which he was surprisingly graceful at doing. Plus he tends to stick his foot in his mouth with his sexist comments, but I guess it's because he doesn't really know any better.

My only major problem is that he seems to care too much about what his friends think, but then again the friends are kind of jerks for teasing him about everything. I just wish he had more of a backbone, I guess. Maybe then I wouldn't have been sitting all alone at lunch again.

What's worse is that I didn't ask. I didn't even make him promise. He was the one who offered to sit with me at lunch so I wouldn't be lonely. Then I had to be the one who looked like an idiot as I stood at the water fountain waiting for him. When I gave up and just went in to the cafeteria to sit by myself – as usual – I honestly thought everything from that weekend was a cruel joke. Maybe Harold Berman is actually quite the maniacal genius who pretended to be my friend over the weekend solely to embarrass me on Monday.

I seemed the most alone that day, because I thought I finally found a friend, only for him to be taken away from me. That was when I truly hated my reputation.

"Everything is darkest before the dawn," people always seem to say. So where was the dawn? Because this was certainly my low point. Clearly I wasn't ever going to have a friend. Clearly I would always be alone. Clearly no one would ever truly get to know me and learn how great I really am.

Or maybe I'm just fooling myself. Maybe "Big Patty" was the best I would ever be. Maybe I really wasn't all that great.

Harold's jerky friends even verified my feelings as they laughed about me.

"Yeah, she's so big and clumsy she'd probably step on your feet and send you straight to the hospital," Sid joked. He and Stinky laughed. Although I couldn't see his face, I was sure Harold was laughing with them.

"Yeah," Stinky added, "or she'd trip over her own feet and fall on ya and crush you!"

The boys again laughed as Sid chimed in with, "Yeah and she'd send you straight to the hospital!"

So much for my tough reputation keeping people from teasing me. All it seemed to do was give people more to laugh at me for, as well as scare people away from me. I slouched in the chair. This most certainly was the darkest part of my life.

"I guess if Big Patty tried to dance with me I'd run for my life," Stinky cackled, cracking Sid up at the same time.

Just when I felt my lowest the most amazing thing happened. There was a loud slam that echoed throughout the cafeteria. When I looked up from my brown paper bag I saw the boys' lunch trays on the floor and Harold standing up pounding on the table.

"Stop it!" Harold screamed at his friends. "You guys don't know what you're talking about. Her name's not 'Big Patty' it's Patty! And she's not clumsy, and she's not dumb."

Was- was he actually standing up for me? Someone was defending me? Me?

"Not only that," he continued shouting, "she's smart, she's nice and she's funny. I must be crazy to listen to you guys. Why do I care what you think? The only thing that matters is what I think. And what I think is that I like Patty!"

I couldn't help but blush a little. This was a side of Harold I never saw before, and I was so proud of him, but I was also so humbled that he'd do so much to stick up for me. He was creating such a scene in front of everyone.

He finished his speech by shaking his fists at his friends, looking a little scary while doing so. "And if anybody's got a problem with that, I'll beat you up so bad it won't even be funny!" He then snatched up his lunch. That was when I noticed he hadn't even opened the bag. Normally he would eat as soon as possible, but he hadn't even attempted to start yet.

The entire cafeteria stared at us as he walked over to my table. "Sorry I'm late, Patty," he sheepishly looked at me with such a cute, sad, and pleading face, "Do you still wanna have lunch with me? Because if you don't it's okay I mean I- you know, I'd understand."

How could I turn him away? He looked like a lost puppy, and he did the most magnificent thing anyone has ever done for me.

With a small smile I calmly told him to sit down and we enjoyed the rest of the lunch period. It was the first one I actually enjoyed.

So, I guess "they" are right. It is darkest before the dawn, but now everything seems kind of sunny.

****A/N: Patty just didn't want to talk through me today... *shrug***

**Anyway, a companion story for "Hey Harold"... maybe tomorrow till be better when it comes to inspiration...**

**Also... Happy Friday the Thirteenth.****


	13. When History Repeats Itself

****A/N: Day fourteen of the July Daily Challenge.**

**Well, when I saw today's prompt I instantly jumped to how history is repeating when it comes to Helga and Arnold having the same school-age relationship as Arnold's grandparents Gertie and Phil. I was going to either write two parallel tales of Gertie and Phil as kids, and then Arnold and Helga and let the audience see history repeating. However, it felt too much like the episode "Girl Trouble". I then thought of Phil and Gertie reflecting on Arnold's wedding day about how history repeated, but then I wasn't sure if I wanted them to be pushing 100yrs old or if I wanted a "looking down from heaven" tale. Either way, I assumed most people would go with the Arnold/Helga repeating Phil/Gertie's history.**

**Then Hubby chimed in with this current idea. So thank you, baby, for helping me think outside the box today. ^_^****

**When History Repeats Itself  
****Continuation of the "It's Too Late" Prompt**

A slender blonde woman struggled as she stumbled her way on to the subway. She had a couple of plastic grocery bags in each hand, and a paper one pressed firmly against her chest with her arm. She struggled to see around the package and repetitively apologized as she bumped in to the other passengers on the train. When she finally managed to find a seat she collapsed with a light thud, dropping her purse off her shoulder and spilling it across the floor.

"Oh no! Dammit!" She looked to find any place where she could put her groceries down so she could collect her belongings, but the car was full. With a huff she stood back up and carefully balanced her bags on her spot. When she turned back around she nearly ran face first in to her purse.

"I think I got everything for you," a man said. His voice sounded familiar, but it was his laugh that gave him away.

With a surprised look, the woman accepted her purse, revealing the man who had retrieved it for her, "Oskar?"

He scratched the back of his head and nervously laughed again, "Hello, Suzie."

"Oskar," her voice escaped in a shallow sigh, "Wh-what are you doing here?" Her eyes shot wide open in realization, "You- you don't live-" She looked around the subway car, spotting at least one homeless man sitting in the corner. "Here?" she finished her question. She then instantly started going through her purse to make sure Oskar didn't take any money from her.

He nervously laughed again, "No, no. I still live at the boarding house. In our old room still."

"Oh," Suzie blushed slightly as she shouldered her purse and attempted to regather her groceries.

"Here, Suzie. Let me help you with that," Oskar offered as he picked up a couple of bags.

Suzie looked cautiously at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop, "Why, thank you, Oskar." She sat down in her chair and he stood in front of her, his one hand held the handle bar that ran parallel to the car roof, and the other held two of Suzie's bags.

"So you still live at the Sunset Arms?" Suzie awkwardly met his gaze.

"Yes," Oskar paused and looked away, "Thank you for paying for one more month before leaving."

"Um, you're welcome." She shuffled her feet a little. "So, uh, what are you doing on the Subway, Oskar?"

"I'm actually heading home from work. Can you believe it? I have a job. I am a janitor at the grocery store."

Suzie turned to really look at Oskar. He was still in blue coveralls, and seemed to stand taller than he used to. She was pleasantly surprised and softly smiled up at him, "That's terrific. I'm really proud of you."

"Yeah," Oskar smiled back, "and the best part is that I no longer have to wake up so early to do the paper route!" He laughed.

"So," Suzie was afraid to ask, but she desperately needed to, "How have you been?"

She was afraid of two answers, either he was doing horribly and it was all her fault for leaving him, or he was doing fantastic without her.

"I'm doing okay I think," he replied after a moment to ponder the question. "I wasn't doing too good at first. No one was around to take care of me or feed me or pay the bills."

The train stopped at the station and the doors opened to let people on and off. When space opened up next to Suzie she offered for Oskar to take a seat beside her. He obliged and then continued.

"I tried to get the boarders to help me, but they told me no, or they were too busy, or said that I wasn't 'a good person', and it hurt. Suzie, I think you were the only one to ever really care about me. I thought I was so lovable and I find out that I'm not lovable. I find out that everybody hates me."

Suzie's heart fell when she saw Oskar slouch, beaten and humbled as he retold the past four months. She wanted to reach out and tell him it was alright, that despite herself she would always care for him.

"But then Arnold helped me out," he continued, "He told me I had to grow up. He told me I had to be responsible. He told me I had to learn how to take care of myself. So I learned how to take care of myself. Arnold and Mr. Hyunh taught me how to cook. Then Arnold taught me how to do laundry and keep the apartment clean. Old Grandpa taught me how to make a checkbook and taught me how to pay my bills. It was hard. It wasn't fun. I didn't like it. But I learned how to do all of that stuff so I would be okay on my own and not have to bother anybody. I'm not a bother to anybody anymore."

The balding, aging, plain-looking Eastern European man who didn't seem to be of anything of worth sat proudly in his seat. He had accomplished much in the short timeframe, and Suzie was impressed.

"So what happened to the paper route?"

Oskar gave his awkward laugh, "Well, when you first left I didn't know what to do. So I didn't do much of anything. I didn't go in to work because you didn't make me go. So they fired me. I didn't worry about it until I needed food and I couldn't get any because I had no money. So Arnold sat with me and he helped me and I got the new job at the grocery store. I go there every day without anyone telling me I have to go. I've been there for almost three months."

"Oskar, that is absolutely amazing. You've really turned your life around."

"Yeah, I guess I have," Oskar laughed and smiled at his former wife.

The train slowed to another stop and as the doors opened Suzie whipped between the station and Oskar. "Oh," she squeaked, "um, this is my stop." She gathered her bags and carefully stood up before taking the bags Oskar had held for her. "It's been real nice talking with you, Oskar."

She turned to leave, attempting to resist her sudden impulse. She took a step before finally caving in and whipping back around. With her arms still filled, she awkwardly leaned in and kissed Oskar on the cheek. "I'm very proud of you, Oskar. It's about time you grew up." She pulled back and gave him a sweet smile, "I hope you're proud too. Take care of yourself."

She walked off the subway and past the window Oskar was sitting at. She told herself to just keep walking. Just ignore the next impulse. She knew where Oskar was living if she wanted to talk later.

Despite all of her arguments against doing so, Suzie caught herself shouting through the subway window as the train pulled away, "Oskar, want to have dinner some time?"

Her heart raced as she watched the car pass her. Oskar pivoted in the seat so he could watch Suzie a moment longer. He nodded his reply. With a smile on her face, Suzie readjusted her groceries and started her trek home.

It would only take a week for them to meet up for that dinner. A month before Suzie cancelled the divorce papers. Two months before she moved back in to the Sunset Arms.

And not even six months after she had moved out, the Kokoshkas were back to fighting.

****A/N: Yup, I totally just undid everything I did with Suzie in the "It's Too Late" prompt... for shame... but I think we all knew she'd relapse...**

**Still, I just don't know how I feel about that ending. It feels kinda rushed, doesn't it? ****I'm just not sure how I feel about this prompt. Doesn't it feel like it needs to be a longer story? Unfortunately, I can't really dedicate any more time to writing today... perhaps at some point I'll go back and allow it more time to grow as a one shot... But only if people want me to.****


	14. Challenge 15 Author's Notes

****A/N: Day fifteen of the July Daily Challenge **

**-The Half Way Point-**

**Alright, well, I didn't really have time to write before work today, and I'm a little too tired to write AFTER work either. Plus, I couldn't really think of anything for today's prompt.**

**I have four concepts in mind, but none are fully developed. So I'm going to put it to a vote for my readers! YAY LAZINESS!**

**The prompt is: "Caressed by a Nightmare"**

**Option 1:**

**What I ended up really focusing on was a story where someone gives up making a better life for themselves and just caves in to being with someone or living in a situation that is horrible for them. Naturally, I went to Helga, but the poor girl gets all the bad karma from us writers. I then thought about Suzie Kokoshka, but I already wrote two stories with her and Oskar. That's when I thought of Miriam Pataki and her staying with Bob. My only issue is I fear in order for Bob to end up a "nightmare" for Miriam I have to portray him in a way too harsh light… Hmmmm**

**Option 2: **

**Hubby came up with this one. Personally, I think it's brilliant. Rhonda ends up getting attacked and then raped – in an alley, at a party, whatever… Curly ends up coming to her rescue. She instantly confides in him as he comforts her. It's while he's comforting her and she slowly starts to have romantic feelings for her rescuer does she start also wondering how he managed to get to her so quickly… also… something about his touch seems familiar somehow….**

**My only concern for this story is that I feel my K+ rating will have to jump to PG-13 or even M (depending on detail), and I don't really want to change my rating ½ way through the challenge if I don't really have to.**

**Option 3:**

**Sort of birthed from Option 2. It's still a Rhonda-centric story in which something horrible happens to her – perhaps her family gets robbed, or her father is framed for a white-collar crime, or her parents die in a car crash – and it's good old Curly to the rescue. He is her confidant as he consoles her. It's when she finally starts to fall for him does a mystery unfold and Curly's kindness doesn't seem all that it appears….**

**Option 4:**

**This option came to me at about 9pm. I was thinking of the anime/manga Fruits Basket in which one of the love interests of the main character turns in to a hideous monster, but she still cares for him anyway – maybe even more so after finding out. Then I thought of InuYasha in which the titular character turns in to a nightmarish demon when his life is threatened, and one of the main ways to return him to normal is his love interest embracing him. Along this thought, I pondered making a fluffy story based off this prompt – instead of the depressing ones the above stories would be.**

**Anyway, I'd have to figure out WHO would be the monster and therefore WHO would be the love interest….**

**So there are my ideas. I'm now four challenges behind and I don't know if I'll get to them until August. But which one would you like me to develop more? You can leave a review letting me know – but then you won't be able to review when I put the real chapter up, or you can PM me, or you can answer the poll on my profile.**

**Thanks! Until tomorrow!****


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